Armour Ardent
by Demi-goddess
Summary: Because of a busy schedule, Oliver can't attend the Majestics' reunion. Well, no biggy he can attend the one next year! ...But what if there isn't a next one for the French boy? no major pairings non yaoi
1. Up in Flames

D-G: Gyah! I really shouldn't be starting another fic! But this idea was soooooo irresistible! My love of Oliver has excelled me once again! Lol, only this time, Oliver has a nice father (cough-'Friends?'-cough) lolol.

Title: Amour Ardent  
Summary: Because of a busy schedule, Oliver can't attend the Majestics' reunion. Well, not biggy- he can attend the one next year! ...But what if there isn't a next one for the French boy? (no major pairings) ---(a first for me lol)  
Rating: T  
Warnings: Swearing, character death...  
Prenotes: I will seriously need a bodyguard by the end of this chapter... /sigh/

* * *

Oliver Polanski was a very busy teen; yet he loved it… well, most of it. 

He now (since he was old enough) co-ran the L'mange restaurant with his father. He did some of the cooking, some of the serving (but none of the cleaning of course) and unsurprisingly, got to be the all-round boss.

The only downside was not being able to attend the Majestics' reunion. It was a bummer, but Enrique had convinced him that the Italian would come down and see him afterwards; and there was always the reunion for next year…

…but what if there wasn't a next year?

* * *

Pale blue eyes opened blearily, blinking away sleeping. He stretched his legs, curling his toes and feeling content as they clicked. He relaxed, just settling for lying there and enjoying the sunlight that streamed in through the gap in the curtains. The whole atmosphere in his room was so peaceful… 

"Giancarlo! Get your arse out of bed!"

Enrique winced. Okay, so his room was peaceful, but the corridor certainly wasn't with Johnny around…

"Fine yeah, don't get your knickers in a twist, your highness." He called back.

"Why you little-!"

"Johnny, I must insist that you stop yelling!" He heard Robert's voice now. "Enrique," Robert called through the door, "get out of bed. It is past midday and Oliver would certainly not let you sleep this far into the day."

Enrique sighed. "Fine, yeah… m'up…" Just as soon as he said that, he sneezed, groaning afterwards.

He heaved himself up and swung his legs over the edge, stretching his arms above his head and grunting when they clicked too.

"Need to ring Oli…" He muttered to himself. "Find out how he deals so well with McGregor…"

* * *

"Still no answer?" 

Enrique shook his head and put the phone back down on the coffee table that sat before the couch he was sitting on.

"It said about not being able to establish a connection or something." The blonde said to Robert.

"Well, Enrique, The L'mange Restaurant is a well-known and highly busy place." Robert reasoned. "They might have unplugged the phone to concentrate. After all, I'm guessing you rung the private line…"

The Italian nodded. "Yeah, course." And he turned on the television, switching to the satellite radio networks.

"No sign of Oliver?" Johnny asked as he walked in, carrying a glass of milk.

"No, he's probably busy." Enrique replied. He eyed the glass. "Milk, McGregor?" The blonde smirked devishly. "Does little puddy-tat wuv his milky-wilky?"

Johnny glared but shrugged nonetheless. "Watching my intake on minerals and stuff."

"Whatever…"

"I'm over the great uptown Paris, Chris, in the Eye In The Sky!" Came a female voice from the TV that Enrique had been watching. Luckily, Robert had basically all the channels in Europe to watch - British Radio included. "Hovering over the L'mange Restaurant which has caught fire! Luckily I was in town to see this-"

The milk Johnny was drinking was sprayed out from his mouth, Robert's jaw fell in an un-gentleman-ly gesture and Enrique went silent for once in his life as the three watched what simply looked like a gigantic fireball.

"Firefighters surrounded the burning restaurant within minutes and ambulances and police appeared soon after. The cause is not known, but I'll give the lowdown on any events."

"Are there any casualties?" A male voice asked.

The three waited with baited breath…

"Unfortunately, Chris, no one has been seen escaping or being rescued from this inferno. Hold on Chris, I'm just getting some news in from my ear piece from our correspondent down on the ground." There was a pause. "This is a disaster Chris! An absolute disaster! I'm receiving news that the owner, Monsieur Emile Polanski, and his son, Oliver Polanski of the Majestics team, were inside the building when it went up in flames. The cause, still, is not known, but the main suspects are terrorism, arson and assassination - investigations are commencing as we speak. Back to you in the studio."

'_Assassination… assassination… assassination…'_

That one word was repeated over and over again in Enrique's mind…

"Oliver's… dead…"

* * *

D-G: >.>... . yup, me needs a bodyguard! 

Reviews are very much loved... Flames will make me laugh.

(Big thank you to CC Queen Queen of Death for agreeing to be my BETA tester for this fic)


	2. Mind, Soul and Heart

D-G: Thanks for those who reviewed. Time for chapter two...

* * *

Robert sighed as he walked down the corridor of his castle. He ran his fingers through messy purple locks tiredly and stopped when he reached a closed door.

His hand hovered hesitantly over the oak for few heartbeats, but he gave in and knocked three times.

"Enrique?" He called softly. "Enrique, please unlock the door."

There was no answer from the other side. He sighed for the millionth time that day and rested his head on the wood; it made a soft 'thud' sound.

"Enrique-"

"Just leave it Robert…" A voice said quietly behind the German noble. Robert turned to see Johnny. "He won't come out. Oliver was basically his brother. His… his…" The Scottish lad couldn't bring himself to say the 'D' word. "You know… it's hit him so hard. I mean, Oliver's gone… never coming back."

"Sir," Robert looked to his left resignedly to see his butler, "there is a call on the video phone."

The Griffon nodded and followed the grey haired man down the corridor, leaving Johnny standing there.

His violet eyes were a shade darker from lack of sleep and stress, and his umber hair was messily organised within the confines of his bandana. He too was within a depression of losing his teammate and (dare he say it?) friend.

Movement to his left made him look to the side. Enrique's door slowly, but surely, opened and the Italian stepped out.

His blonde hair was also tousled but it hung over his eyes, casting shadows across his face.

"Why…?" Enrique croaked. "Why… did he have to… go?"

Johnny's heart clenched. This was so unlike him - unlike all of them! - but I guess you miss something truly and dearly when it's gone…

The redhead moved over to the blonde and drew him into an uncharacteristic hug, rubbing his back.

"I… don't know, Enrique…" He whispered. "I don't know…"

* * *

"Ashes to ashes… dust to dust…" The priest said solemnly as everyone in the garden of the Polanski's mansion stared down at the memorial.

The fire had been so fierce that no bodies were recovered…

The priest closed his book and made the sign of the cross, murmuring obvious prayers in Latin. He bowed his head; people took that as a dismissal and started to leave.

The remaining Majestics stared on sadly as Oliver's mother bent down to the shared memorial of her husband and son and wept, a man (obviously a close family friend) standing next to her, with a hand on her shoulder. The priest walked over to the three males.

"I can assure you that Oliver is in a good place with God above and that he's looking down on you, watching you everyday." He said softly. "I wish you well in your lives, my children. If you ever need help, I am always here for you."

Robert gave him a nod of thanks and his gaze followed the man as the elderly servant of God helped Oliver's crying mother into the house with the other man.

The German noble laid his hands on Enrique and Johnny's shoulders. "Anything you wish to say to him?"

Johnny shook his head sadly.

"I want to be alone." Enrique murmured to them.

Johnny and Robert shared sympathetic looks but nodded, leaving the Italian on his own by the gravestone.

Enrique sighed to calm his heart. "Oli… God, why did you have to go? I miss you…"

* * *

"He's been out there for hours." Johnny commented quietly as he and Robert looked out the window into the garden where the memorial and Enrique sat. "Should we-?"

"No," Robert replied with a shake of his head. "Give him time."

They turned around, though, when they heard footsteps approaching.

Oliver's mother stepped into the room. Her sunshine green hair was out of its usual bun and fell around her shoulder and equally green eyes looked on them sadly.

"Boys…" She said, her voice even softer than normal. "I want you to know that you may stay here for as long as you wish, anytime you wish." The two nodded. She gave them a smile. "Oliver would be proud of you, trying to be as strong as you can. I think you deserve this more than I…"

She held out a package and Robert took it from her hand. Opening it, his eyes met a beyblade, some of the edges burnt. Half the attack ring had been melted, obviously in the fire's heat. The bit chip was empty.

"It was Oliver's…" She continued, "though Unicolyon wasn't found. I guess she left this place to guide him safely into heaven." She rolled her lips and her eyes watered with fresh tears. "Excuse me."

The graceful woman left the room quickly, her long black dress rustling.

Johnny looked up at the sombre noble. "I think Enrique should have it…" He murmured.

Robert cast him a look before nodding. "Come."

They walked out the patio doors and onto the decking, following the wooden path to the memorial – and to where Enrique sat.

"Enrique."

The blonde looked up at them and gave a small smile in greetings. The other two sat beside him.

"Oliver's mother gave us this," Robert sat softly, holding out the charred pink beyblade. "We thought you would have it; you were closest to Oliver than us two combined."

Enrique hesitantly held out a hand and Robert placed the small beyblade upon it. Slim, manicured fingers enclosed the blade and blue eyes stared down at it.

The corner of his mouth kicked up slightly. "You know… if Oliver saw his blade in this state, he'd totally flip."

Johnny sniggered. "Yeah, he always was a perfectionist. I remember when we were just mucking around in friendly matches and I chipped his blade." He pointed out a crack on the top. "I went deaf that night and I got so many bruises, I must've have black and blue."

"You deserved it, Johnny." Robert commented. "It was only a little battle."

"I couldn't help it if Salamalyon is powered by my anger and Enrique was pissing me off." Johnny retorted.

"Heh, you still lost." Enrique added.

Silence shrouded them. A comfortable silence, mind.

"You know, it still feels like he's still alive."

"He is, Johnny." Robert said. "In our hearts, minds and souls…"

* * *

Reviews make me smile - Flames make me laugh 


	3. A year passed

D-G: a short chapter, i'm sorry. I've been swamped up with shit... check out my DA journal(s) for info.

* * *

'_It's been a year,_' Enrique wrote in his diary, '_since Oliver died… I'm still learning to cope with things that bring up bad memories, but Robert said to always look at the times when Oliver has been happiest – and I've done that… well, tried, at least._

'_I haven't seen Robert and Johnny for at least half this time - so that's half a year. We decided to go apart for some time. I think Robert said something about bearing with grief in our own ways or something… I think it helped to be alone._

'_But now, we're getting back together again, to honour Oliver's memory on his death-day. Part of me doesn't want to go to the memorial service that's also being held, but the other half knows that if I don't go, I'll be dishonouring him in a way._'

"Sir, we are here," Piddlesworth broke the Italian out of his thoughts. Enrique looked up from his journal quickly. His butler was standing with the limousine door open, waiting for him to exit the large vehicle.

Enrique nodded and slid the book and pen into his bag, stepping out. He looked up at Robert's castle and sighed.

* * *

A purple haired, graceful-looking women frowned at her son sympathetically. "Robert, honey, you haven't touched any of your food. Are you ill?"

Robert shook his head and stood. "Please excuse me."

Robert's mother watched him leave with sad eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Helga." A proud man, obviously Robert's father, told her. "It is that young Polanski's death-day tomorrow… he's just mourning his friend. Let him be."

Helga nodded. "I hope it passes soon. He's been like this for a week or so."

"Herr Hans, Master Robert's friend - Master Giancarlo - has arrived." The butler informed the father. "Should I show him to his room?"

"Yes," Hans replied, "I think it would be best. Robert is… a little emotional at the moment."

The butler nodded and disappeared from the room. Helga sighed sadly.

* * *

'_Gustav told me that Robert had gone missing. Well, not missing as in, "OMG MISSING!" but as in, he just needs some time alone. He said something about Robert being a little emotional. And Johnny hasn't turned up yet'_

Enrique looked down at the page before scribbling a final sentence:

'_I think I'm going to go look for Robert.'_

Enrique laid his pen down on the page and stood, walking out the room straight after. Closing the door, he looked down the hallway both ways.

"Where would Robert go…?"

He decided to just wander. Even if he had known Robert for over three years, he still didn't know his castle…

Robert words from when they first met the Bladebreakers surfaced-

"_Very Interesting, I must remember to reset the guillotine for next time. It usually works. You were lucky._"

Tyson had been very freaked out by his words… it was a classic Kodak moment… he prayed he didn't fall into some trap like Tyson had…

"Robert?"

Out on one of the balconies was the German noble. He was propped against the wall on the stone railing, shirt half open and hair messed.

Ruby eyes blinked at him. "Enrique… I wasn't expecting your presence so soon."

Enrique gave a lop sided reassuring smile. "Sorry…"

"No point," Robert replied with a chuckle, looking back out into the midday sky. "For once in your life, you are fashionably early."

"Ye- hold on."

Enrique pulled the vibrating phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. On the screen, 'Bastard' flashed.

"Oh, it's Johnny." Enrique laughed. "He-looooo?"

"Enrique, stop fucking around and be serious."

"Johnny, you alright?" Enrique asked. Robert blinked at him. "You seem freaked out…"

"Of course I'm freaked out, you annoying and moronic playboy!" Johnny snapped back.

"What-? Hey!"

Robert snatched the phone of the Italian. "Johnny, what is going on?"

"…"

"Johnny?"

"I've seen Oliver."

* * *

D-G: i know this is unfair, but i want at least 4 reviews for this cos... well, i just do, k? eyes water Pwease? 


	4. It's him

D-G: And back again... so soon... I couldn't be arsed to wait so here is the next update smiles

I received a very nice and thoughtful review from someone called 'Adam'. At the start he stated that, yeah it is unfair of me to demand reviews, like last chapter but here're the reasons:  
1) I was very stressed when i wrote that chapter. So stressed than only two or three people know about it.  
2) I do value all reviews! It just prompts lurkers and people who read, but don't review to, well, review. I'm sorry if i upset people.

OWTF

* * *

"_Johnny! Johnny! Tell us how you feel!"_

"_Are you still mourning?"_

"_Are you going to replace Oliver?"_

"_Were Enrique and Oliver an item? How does Enrique feel about this?"_

"_What about your captain?"_

"_**Leave me the fuck alone!**" Johnny roared. "And get out of my fucking way!"_

_The crowd of reporters and paparazzi parted like the Red Sea and Johnny stalked through, glaring at everyone in sight. His butler and a few other servants followed, carrying baggage._

_A dark aura seemed to surround the youth, radiating his irritable mood to warn others. The automatic sliding doors opened allowing him entry into the air conditioned hotel._

"_Please, sir, you are scaring off everyone." His butler reasoned._

"_Isn't that the point? Nosey commoners."_

"Johnny, get to the point!" Robert yelled over the phone.

"Yeah, okay, okay!"

_Johnny stepped out onto the warm balcony on his hotel room. He was supposed to be waiting for his father to return to discuss family business before going to Robert's castle. He leant on the railing, purple eyes gazing upon the Londoners below, none really standing out to him and blurring into one mass._

_Apart from one. He looked highly familiar to Johnny…_

"_Can't be…" He shook his head. "Mind playing tricks… he's gone… stop it, Johnny…!"_

_But he couldn't get it out of his head. The being, a male of late teens, was leaning against the brick wall beside a bank. His casual jeans and black top didn't make him noticed to Johnny… it was his hair…_

_Johnny turned on the spot and rushed out of his room, ignoring his butler's protests. He was out of the hotel in under a minute, just to see the male cross the road to his side. He slowly walked towards him, though acting as though he didn't know him._

_By 'accident' his knocked shoulders with him._

"_Hey watch it!" He snapped._

_The being turned round. "Sorry, it was an accident."_

_It was a French accent, though slightly dampened…_

_And violet eyes widened when he saw Johnny…_

"_Yeah, well you should have looked where you were going." Johnny retorted._

"_It takes two to tango…" The male replied._

_Like Oliver used to say…_

"_Come on, son." The man beside him murmured, putting an arm around the male and pulling him away._

_As soon as they were gone, Johnny pulled out his phone and walked back into the hotel._

"And that's what happened."

Robert was silent for a moment. "Pure coincidence, Johnny." He sighed. "And also your mind matching irrelevant things in your grief. Do not bring it upon others."

"What's he saying?" Enrique asked Robert in a whisper.

The German held a finger to his lips before carrying on. "Johnny-"

"Don't you fucking tell me that it's not true." Johnny snapped. "I'm telling you, I saw him. I spoke to him. He had the accent! The eyes! The hair – though it was much longer… about shoulder length now – but that's not the point! He said the same things that Oliver said… I…" There was a pause. "You don't believe me do you?"

"Not exactly…" Robert said slowly.

"Well, come to London and I'll prove it."

"Johnny, he could be anywhere by the time we get there. Whoever this boy is." The Griffon reasoned.

"Then I'll follow him."

"I don't think he'll take kindly to a stalker."

"He's doesn't have a freakin' choice in the matter." Johnny retorted. "And I won't be seen. Just get to The Castle Hotel and ring me when you get there."

The phone in Robert's hand emitted a long beep. "He's hung up."

"Bastard…" Enrique muttered. "Now what the hell did he say? What's going on?"

"Enrique… Johnny seems to think that he's seen Oliver." The German said slowly.

Enrique laughed, but it was slightly forced. "O-Oliver? But he's dead…"

Robert sighed and handed the phone back.

"He is insisting we depart for London right away…" Robert told him. "Until then, he better come up with some hard evidence or for once in my life, I will crash someone's cranium in."

* * *

D-G: Nothing to say except please do review... cos...  
Reviews make me smile and update quicker- Flames make me laugh and update slower  
Do the math 


	5. To London

D-G: Sorry for the late update. I was ill, then my poor doggy, and i have so much work to get on with it's ARGH!./bangs head on desk/

* * *

"Yes, Master McGregor? May I help?" The receptionist asked Johnny. 

"I need to see the CCTV cameras."

"Sir, I'm afraid-"

"Everyone must get over phobias. Now just show me, damnit!" Johnny growled. "And if you do so, you'll be so rich, you won't have to work ever again!"

The woman nodded numbly under his withering glare and gestured him behind the desk and into the back room. The far wall was covered in television screens and beneath them was a man sitting before a desk.

"Sir, may I ask why you need to see them?" The woman asked.

"I need to see a person… he walked by only a few minutes ago… I need to see where he's heading…" The woman nodded and whispered something in the man's ear.

He fiddled with a few buttons before the screens started to rewind.

"Stop!" Johnny yelled.

The screens paused immediately. The Scottish lad slowly walked up to one of the monitors and pointed.

"There he is…" He murmured. "I need you two to follow him and see where he disappears off the monitors all together."

The woman and man nodded and the security officer resumed the tapes again. The male Johnny had bumped into walked along with his 'father' until they hailed down a cab.

"Pause it." Johnny commanded. He pulled out his phone and keyed in the number plate of the black taxi as well as the company registration. He nodded to them. "Thank you. You will be rewarded. Now keep your pie holes shut, got it?"

"Yes sir."

* * *

The sun had set by the time Enrique and Robert walked into Johnny's hotel room… 

Well, okay, I use 'walked' in a broad way. Robert walked in… Enrique sort of staggered in.

Robert turned his back on the blonde to hand his coat up on the coat stand. "You may want to-" He turned round to see Enrique sprawled on the couch, asleep. "-lie down…" He finished feebly.

"Robert, Enrique, you're finally here."

Robert turned to see Johnny. The Scottish boy looked almost as tired as Enrique.

"Well, I'm here… Enrique…" He glanced behind him. "Give him time to rearrange himself."

Johnny nodded.

"Did you track the boy down?" Robert asked.

Johnny nodded with a sigh. "Yes. Took a while. I had to find where he went. On the hotel's CCTV, it showed him getting into a cab with his father… I rang the cab's company and found out where it went; which is the Prince Edward Hotel. I rang the Prince Edward and found out his name is Winter Thomas and his father is Martin Thomas. They're staying in the hotel until Friday, so that gives us three days." Johnny sighed. "I can't believe it…"

"Johnny," Robert murmured softly, guiding him to a chair, "this lad is called Winter - not Oliver. It may not be him."

"It has to be…" Johnny buried his face in his hands. "God, it was like looking at an Oliver that had been brainwashed or something…"

Robert sighed. "Johnny, get some rest. We'll deal with this in the morning."

"What about Enrique?"

"We'll leave him there. I shall take the covers from a bed and make sure he doesn't freezes during the night."

Johnny hesitantly nodded and stood, walking through one of the bedroom doors.

'_This is getting strange…'_

_

* * *

_

D-G: I am truly sorry for shortness. I will try to make the next chapter longer, more interesting and quicker 

Please review cos they make me smile... flame just make me laugh, but i won't tempt you


	6. But not back

"Johnny…?"

Johnny looked up from his coffee, at Enrique. The Italian's baby blue eyes were slightly glazed from obvious lack of sleep (though, surprisingly, there were no bags under them).

"Do… do you have any pictures of him?"

"Who?"

"This… Winter guy…"

Johnny nodded and stood, walking into his room, only to reappear a few minutes later with a square piece of paper.

"It's not the best. It's from the CCTV, but luckily, this hotel has colour cameras, not shitty black and white ones." He said, handing the square piece of paper to Enrique.

Enrique stared at the photograph. On it, was Winter, his long, green hair flowing in an unseen breeze. He was speaking to his father, a tall, middle-aged man with short brown hair, wearing casual attire. Winter's clothing consisted of - as Johnny had seen - baggy jeans and a black top, plain black trainers peeking from beneath the hem of his jeans.

Enrique kept silent. Johnny was right… he did look familiar…

* * *

"But Mr Dickenson, why won't the Majestics be competing?" Tyson asked.

The Grevelutions were sat at a large table in a conference room with the elderly man. The PPB All Starz and White Tigers were also sat at the oak table, with Judy sitting beside the portly man.

Judy's eyes saddened.

"Mom?" Max asked. "Why won't they?"

They all noticed Hilary and Kenny look down solemnly at the wood.

"Ch-Chief? Hilary?" Tyson asked. "Will someone tell me whhhhyyyyy!"

"Boys… I'm sorry to say that the reason is…" Mr Dickenson's eyes filled with tears and he was unable to continue.

Judy placed a hand on his shoulder. "They won't be playing because… they are a player short."

"Did one quit? Is that what you're all sad about?" Mariah asked.

"I wish it were like that, Mariah-dear." Mr Dickenson managed to say, dabbing his eyes.

"Boys…" Judy murmured. "What… I will say will-"

"Please, Judy, just get on with it!" Rick yawned. "I mean, it's not the end of the world, is it?"

"Not for you, anyway!" Hilary yelled at him. She looked at Judy. "Please Judy, just tell them. Before they stick their feet in their mouths."

Judy nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid that the reason is simple. Oliver… Oliver was killed."

There was absolute silence.

Tyson laughed nervously. "Eh, Judy? Could you say that again? I-I thought you said Oliver was dead."

Judy's eyes filled with tears and she burst out crying, fleeing from the room. Hilary rushed after her to comfort the American woman.

"Mr Dickenson…" Ray began. "H-He isn't… dead… is he?"

"I'm afraid so, Ray." The chairman confirmed. "The Majestics quite simply aren't the Majestics anymore… in fact… I have no record of where they are right now. I can only hope that they are safe…"

* * *

The three remaining Majestics walked along the London pavement in silence. The shops were open, the streets were full, yet no one dared bother the three nobles and the reason was well known…

If only one girl knew about it. A tomboyish girl, dressed in baggy cargos, Vans, a blue top and black hoodie, with black fingerless gloves, and a black bandana separating her short brown hair, she could almost be mistaken for a boy - luckily, she was gifted in the chest-department.

When she saw Johnny's hair in the distance, she ground her teeth and her forest green eyes flashed with dislike. "Gotcha. Come on Friday!"

She pulled another girl, who was dressed in a short, white, lace and silk skirt, pink strapless and stilettos. Her blonde hair whipped behind her, her brown frontal bangs getting stuck to her newly applied lip gloss.

"Ah, Chelsea!" She shrieked, equally green eyes wide with shock. "I just applied that!"

"Oh shut up, Friday." Chelsea retorted. "It's payback for what that McGregor did to our brother."

And she marched right up to Johnny. Shelet go of Friday but pushed the Scottish lad back with a heavy shove. Johnny stumbled back slightly.

"What the hell was that for?"

"That was for my brother!" Chelsea yelled. "Don't like being pushed around, do you? But, oh sorry, it was an accident… but you don't seem to believe things accidents."

Johnny glared at the brunette. "I know it was an accident with your brother, girl."

Chelsea glared back, royal purple clashing with brilliant green.

Friday (the blonde girl) stepped beside Chelsea. "Chelse, stop, okay? He gets the point. Now let's go." The brunette did not move. "Chelsea Thomas, get your behind back to the hotel room before you get seven-inch heels stuck there."

Chelsea regarded the blonde, before huffing and storming off. Friday sighed and turned back to the three males.

"Uh, listen, I'm sorry. She gets a little protective of our brother. I know it was an accident, but it's hard getting that through her skull." She giggled. "Um, so sorry, and, uh, bye."

"Wait!" Enrique shouted. Friday turned around. "Listen, er, I think Johnny wants to say sorry face to face with your brother. Do you know where he could be?"

"Well, you could come back to the hotel room and wait for him there…" She suggested.

"That could work." Robert agreed, nudging Johnny discreetly in the chest. "Would your parents mind?"

Friday blushed when Robert spoke to her, but she continued, "Uh, no, they won't. It'll be great to have celebrities in the place, anyway!" She giggled. "But, come on, then."

The Majestics followed the week-named girl, Robert walking beside her with Johnny and Enrique behind.

"'Say sorry to him'? What did you smoke today?" Johnny whispered to Enrique.

"This way we get to meet this Winter-guy, genius." Enrique shot back._ 'And sort this thing out once and for all…'_

* * *

A/N- sorry for the late update.

So, who exactly is Winter? And are these two girls his sisters, as they say?

_Next chapter: The 'Thomas' family is extended and the true story is **almost **unleashed…_


	7. It's time

Demi: OMG OMG OMG OMG _-carries on for some time-_ I'm so fucking sorry! _-runs around like a loon-_ I haven't updated for over a freakin month! So many things have happened! Now I'm going to shut up and let you read…

* * *

"Here we are." Friday said as she unlocked the door of room 116 in the Prince Edward Hotel. "Not the best of hotel rooms, but it's all cool."

"You invited them back?" A familiar voice shrieked.

Johnny groaned as someone slid along the wooden floor, red-mahogany hair messed up.

But he faltered when he noticed that the being was blue-eyed (not green) and didn't have… lady lumps.

"Chelsea, shut the hell up!" Friday cried, placing her keys on the table beside the door.

The blue-eyed redhead chuckled in a deep tone. "Girls…"

"Heh, like boys are any better." Chelsea snapped as she entered what looked like the living room.

Friday flicked a blonde strand over her shoulder and turned to look at the three Majestics.

"This freaky girlish-guy is my brother, Radolf." She introduced, slinging an arm around the blue-eyed boy.

"I am not girlish-looking."

"Oh come off it." Friday tutted. "You have long lashes, and slight curves. You also fuss over your hair!"

"Blame her for that!" Radolf protested, jerking his thumb at Chelsea. "But… I guess you want Winter, eh?"

"Yeah. Johnny wants to apologise… or rather, Enrique said he did."

"Pfft, yeah right."

Johnny simply glared at the redhead girl, who childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

"But, er…" Radolf cut in. "I can't let you see him…"

"Why not, Rad?" Friday asked.

"He's ill."

"Oh, not again…" Friday said sadly, hurrying over to a door and walking in slowly and quietly.

Radolf turned back to the Majestics. "He's been getting mega migraines lately. As in, the whole shebang. It's hell cos- oh, hey dad!"

The three Majestics turned to the front door to see a man with short brown hair, slim figure robed in a black suit. His blue eyes blinked a few times.

"Oh, hello boys."

Chelsea made a sound.

"And girl… I'm Martin Thomas."

"Nice to meet you Mr Thomas." Robert said, extending his hand, which Martin shook.

"Ah, I should be saying that to you, my boy." Martin replied with a laugh. He looked at Radolf. "Where's your sister and brother?"

"Winter's ill again."

"Not just ill, dad." The bedroom door had opened again and Friday appeared with a frown.

"What do you mean, Friday?" Chelsea asked.

"He- I don't know… he says… he keeps mentioning things…"

"What things?"

"…Those things."

The family had obviously forgotten about the Majestics; all staring at one another.

"The serum must be wearing off." Mr Thomas said finally.

"Serum? What-mmmmph!"

"Shut up, Enrique!" Johnny hissed.

"We'll leave. You obviously-"

"No, Robert. You… you have to stay. All of you. You have to know…"

"Daddy!" Friday squealed. "They can't know!"

"They have to, Friday." Martin shot back.

"It'll break their hearts even more to know!"

"Their hearts have been broken already to lose him."

"…Is there something we're missing here?" Johnny broke in.

"A lot." Radolf replied solemnly, looking only at his father. "A hell of a lot."

"Boys… if-if you could sit down… please."

The Majestics - after glancing at each other - hesitantly moved over to the couches and sat. Mr Thomas and Radolf sat opposite them, on the same couch as Chelsea. Friday sat in the armchair, not meeting the bladers' eyes - instead, running her manicured fingers through blonde and brown bangs.

Martin sighed. "Boys…" He rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. "How can this be said lightly? Winter is not who he appears to be - not who he believes to be. His mind is foggy…" There was a pause. "He… he's…" He looked at Johnny with saddened eyes, blinking back tears. "Johnny… I can tell you've had an inkling - a strong sense of the truth. That fire was too neat and when you saw Winter…"

Everything clicked into place for them, but no one said a word. When Enrique began to tremble, Johnny wrapped an arm around the blonde's shoulder, rubbing his forearm and allowing himself to comfort someone he thought he hated.

Robert swallowed thickly and shut his eyes. "So it is true… Winter is Oliver…" The red eyes were unleashed and they seemed to burn within. The German set his searing gaze right on Martin. "So now it is time for you to explain to me how this happened and why we weren't told."

His tone was so crisp, that even Mr Thomas - a man of thirty-ish - felt his breath catch in his throat.

"The truth is…"

* * *

_-Grins sadistically-_ meh, hope you keep with me, guys and gals… cos we've only just started… 


	8. The Past

Demi: right, sorry for taking so long. Was ill, then didn't know what to write... but **Phoenixandashes** (my official BETA Tester) gave this chapter the **Phoenix Seal Of Approval **(© me) so i'm assured it's okay...

(the line breakers aren't working for me, i deeply apologise.)

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"_I say it needs more paprika!"_

"_Paprika? Where on Earth were you taught how to cook? It needs something else, but **not** paprika!"_

_Oliver laughed at the two cooks. "Well," the boy interrupted, "why don't you pour some of the sauce into a bowl and try different things?"_

_There was a pause. "By Jehovah, he's got it!"_

_Oliver rolled his eyes and exited the kitchen, walking along the corridor to the main body of the large L'Mange Restaurant. He passed many tables, diners waving to him as he went, before stopping behind the front desk. _

_His father, Emile Polanski, smiled down at him. "Hello, Oliver, m'boy. Sorted out those cooks yet?"_

_Oliver nodded. _

"_What on Earth was it about?"_

"_Paprika."_

_Emile shook his head and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "No matter. It's sorted now. Oh, by the way, your Uncle Martin and cousin Radolf are visiting today. Should be here…" He checked his watch. "In half an hour or so."_

"_Great! I've missed Radolf." Oliver replied with a grin. _

"_I bet you just want to battle him again."_

"_Now what makes you say that, father?" Oliver chuckled. "It would be nice to have a go at the Red Wolf, though."_

"_I know it would." Emile replied, biting back a knowing smile. "He's got better though."_

"_So have I!" Oliver protested._

_Emile laughed, but stopped when someone walked through the front doors of the fancy restaurant._

"_Can it be…? D'Arcy Kullen!" Emile rushed out from behind the large, curved desk and embraced a middle-aged man with windswept, sandy-brown hair. "Where the devil have you been all these years?"_

"_Here and there!" The man, D'Arcy, laughed. "Now, this must be Oliver."_

_Oliver had followed his father, though at a slower rate, out from behind the desk and now stood beside the elder Polanski. D'Arcy extended his hand with Oliver shook._

"_Pleasure to meet you, sir."_

"_No, the pleasure's all mine, boy." D'Arcy laughed. "My, how you've grown!"_

"_Old friend, let us go into the side room. Oliver would you stay and look after-"_

"_Would it be okay for me to request him to come with us? I wish to hear about those Beyblades… and who better to ask than a true champion?"_

"_Certainly, certainly." Emile replied with a chuckle. "Oliver, tell Marquis he is in charge and then grab some wine."_

"_White or red?"_

"_May I request a red, old friend?" D'Arcy interrupted. "I haven't had a decent red in over a year!"_

"_Certainly! Oliver, you're the expert. Just choose what's best."_

_Oliver and the two men split paths – Oliver going to the back of the restaurant once again, whilst his father and D'Arcy disappeared through a door to the side of the restaurant._

"_So where the Dickens have you been all these years?" Emile asked. "And answer truthfully!"_

"_Travelling the world, looking for old friends and various people." D'Arcy replied, sitting down at the medium-sized mahogany table, opposite Emile. "And I was in town, so I thought I'd drop in."_

"_Well, I hope you plan on staying for some time! Marie will be so happy to see you!"_

"_Oh Gosh, how is Marie?"_

"_As beautiful as ever."_

"_Hm, you got a very good catch, my friend." D'Arcy said. "Brains and beauty. And I thought you rich folk only married for more money!"_

"_Not now. My father did. But I intend on changing it. It is only love we Polanskis will seek." Emile answered. He sighed. "Have you ever been in love, D'Arcy?"_

"_Oh yes… I'm ashamed to admit that I am infatuated with a woman currently."_

"_Why is that something to be ashamed of, dear friend?"_

"_Because she is grown and married." D'Arcy sighed sadly. "It is a one-sided infatuation, I'm afraid."_

"_My friend, she will come to light. I cannot think of any woman who would reject you." Emile looked up as the door opened and Oliver entered, carrying a small bottle and three wine glasses. "Ah, m'boy. What have you chosen for us?"_

"_Nuits-St-Georges." Oliver replied, setting the three glasses down and pouring the rich, red wine into them. He placed the bottle in the center of the table. "My favourite."_

_D'Arcy laughed. "Only – what? – sixteen and he has a favourite wine!" The man laughed again and Oliver sat down with a chuckle. "Ah, I do not laugh at you, boy. It is just… strange to me. A poor man…" He sighed and sniffed the wine before taking a sip. "Mm, ah, now I can tell why you like it so much. I'm not much of a wine person, but this tantalises the taste buds, if I may say so myself. But such a nice wine in such a small bottle… it shall be gone quickly, I must warn you."_

"_We have many bottles in the back, don't you worry, my friend. My wife's sister's husband knows the supplier. He's a brewer and knows all the right people, you know?"_

"_Ah, yes." D'Arcy nodded, taking another sip. "But, boy, tell me – how are your team? They have not been seen for some time. Only Johnny and… Robert? Yes, Johnny and Robert were seen at the previous Beyblading tournament… but how are they?"_

"_They're well." Oliver replied, taking a sip of his wine. "They're at Robert's castle presently – a reunion."_

"_But why aren't you there?"_

"_I'm too busy." The French teen replied. "Enrique promised to come down and visit soon, though."_

"_Ah, well, isn't that nice?" D'Arcy chuckled. "I did that for Emile when he was your age. I moved to Belgium when I was… fifteen because my parents split up. I lived with my mother, but came to Paris to live with my father and to see your father."_

"_I remember those times." Emile said with a laugh. He poured another glass for himself, topping up Emile's and Oliver's too. "Oh, no more." He placed the empty bottle on the floor. "But no matter." He raised his glass. "Here's to old times. Good old times."_

"_Cheers."_

_Their glasses hit together with a 'clink', before they each drank a mouthful in respect._

"_So, will you enter the next Beyblade tournament?" D'Arcy asked._

"_Robert is thinking about it. Possibly, yes."_

"_Ah, I cannot wait. All of you will do Europe proud. But you, Oliver, will prove to the world that France is not a prissy country where we sip wine and laze around."_

"_No, that's the Italians! La Dolce Vita!" Emile laughed, ruffling Oliver's hair._

_The French teen laughed too. "I have to admit, that's the impression I got when I went there."_

"_Ah, he does have a backbone!"_

"_D'Arcy, my friend, would you like more wine?"_

_D'Arcy studied his empty wine glass. "Some more would be nice, yes. Ah, no, my boy!" He cried when Oliver stood. "I will get the wine! Just tell me where it is held and I will retrieve it. No need for you to serve me – I will serve you!"_

_Oliver blinked. "Um, ask Marquis and he will direct you. He is the man behind the desk. Black hair, tanned skin-"_

"_Italian?"_

_Oliver chuckled. "Yes."_

"_Ah," D'Arcy smiled. "And this was Nuits-St-George?"_

"_Oui."_

_The brunette stood and with a dramatic bow, left the room – only to reappear five minutes later with an open bottle. He sat, filled his glass, then Oliver's, but when he proceeded to Emile's, the French man shook his head._

"_No, mercí." Emile excused himself. "I mustn't whilst in charge."_

"_Of course, old friend. Still so wise." D'Arcy placed the bottle on the table once again. "But about Marie. I heard – Miss France, eh? She's still got it, nabbing it from all those young scallywags."_

_Emile laughed. "Yes, crowned last month. Gosh, it made her so happy."_

"_I bet you spoilt her rotten after, didn't you?"_

"_You know me too well!" Emile laughed. "But – ah! – I have a picture of her in the cupboard actually! Oliver, in the second one from the end, if you could please."_

_Oliver nodded and stood-_

_Suddenly wishing he hadn't. A headache seem to crash onto his head, waves of dizziness hitting him. He moved to the side to grip the counter._

_Before his father could even utter a word, he blacked out, falling to the floor._

_Emile stood quickly and rushed to his son's side. "Oliver! Oliver!"_

"_My, my, someone can't handle their favourite wine…" D'Arcy commented casually, standing and walking over to the door. Surprisingly, he locked it, lips curling. "Or not…"_

_Emile's eyes widened. "You… you did this! You spiked the second bottle of wine!"_

"_Why else did you think I did not sip any, even though I retrieved it?" D'Arcy laughed. "But yes… not a normal drug… one of a kind, made just for me on my request. A hypnotic drug… when he wakes up, the first person who speaks to him will be his… master. And that will be me."_

"_But-But why?"_

"_Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" D'Arcy's smile turned into a look of pure disgust. "You took my precious Marie from me! I promised her the best life she could have! A quiet life – one in a beautiful country house in Belgium with many rooms for relatives to stay in and the most beautiful horse ever and many more! You promised her the city life – a rowdy one; a disgusting one. One filled with money, wine, and slaves._

"_You charmed her in the most crude way but she still stayed with you!"_

"_She loved me! She still does!" Emile protested._

_Ignoring him, D'Arcy carried on. "And then you have the most talented son! Handsome, charming, caring and innocent! A great cook, painter and beyblader. An intelligent boy…" His green eyes flicked over to Oliver, softening. "So much power, but you let it slip through your fingers." He moved over to the Polanskis, Emile moving to shield Oliver. "Think about it, Emile. If he received proper training, he could be the world's greatest beyblader! He could help control the world with his power!"_

"_I will not become another Boris Balcov!" Emile shouted._

_D'Arcy backhanded him, sending him sprawling to the other side of the room, his head hitting the cabinets. Emile blinked, trying to still his vision, D'Arcy taking the time to bind his hands behind his back and his feet together with rope from his pocket._

_The Belgian man walked back over to the door. "Listen to me, Polanski. Time for a little gloating with the ingenious plan – that's what all bad guys do, right? Both Marie and Oliver will be mine. The world will be mine… trust me with those promises._

"_And now, I'll be leaving you for a spell. When I return, I will lock the door, take Oliver away by using the backdoor, leaving you here…" He turned around, unlocking the door. "Oh and by the way? Things are about to heat up. After all, this is a **hot** restaurant and you are a **fiery** man…"_

_The demented man left with a laugh._

_Emile could only stare at his unconscious son. Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of his son being corrupted by such a psychotic man… his beloved wife being taken…_

_The door opened and his gaze shot over to the wooden entrance. _

_His eyes widened. "God above! Martin!"_

"_Emile? What on Earth-?"_

"_There's no time." Emile protested. "Get inside."_

_The thirty year old brunette slipped inside fully, followed by a fourteen year old Radolf._

"_Oliver!" The red-tinted brunette teen cried, rushing over to the limp body._

"_What's going on, Emile?" Martin asked with wide eyes, rushing over to his brother-in-law's side. "Let me untie-"_

"_No. Listen to me, Martin." Emile said quickly. "You must take Oliver back to England and keep him safe. D'Arcy Kullen drugged him and bound me. This drug – when Oliver wakes up, the first voice he hears, he'll obey it… forever, I guess. D'Arcy was going to control Oliver and take Marie from me. He's going to set the restaurant on fire, I think. He's going to kill me – you must take Oliver and go! He will be safe in England. D'Arcy doesn't know of the Thomas' and that Sasha is Marie's sister… just keep him safe."_

"_What about you?" Martin protested._

"_I will keep him busy. Just go. Do it for me and Marie, Martin. And just do what you think best." Emile gave him a reassuring smile. "Now go before he comes back."_

_Martin nodded. "Goodbye, old friend. May God welcome you with open arms." Reaching to the back of his neck, he undid the clasp of a crucifix, before securing it around Emile's neck. "I will take good care of him, do not worry. And D'Arcy will not get away with it."_

_Emile gave a curt nod and watched Martin pick his son's limp body up in his arms, Radolf rushing to the fire exit and opening it, stepping out into the alleyway._

"_Goodbye, m'boy…" He murmured, a tear rolling down his cheek._

_Radolf looked back at his uncle sympathetically. "But father…"_

"_No…"_

_Radolf nodded, but paused. He rummaged in Oliver's coat pocket and pulled out his beyblade. Unclipping Unicolyon's bit chip, he placed the tiny metal disc in his pocket before placing the pink blade within Emile's grasp._

"_He'll be with you, even in your dying moments."_

"_Thank you, my boy."_

_Radolf nodded before rushing after his father and closing the fire exit. Emile sighed and tilted his head back against the cabinet doors, waiting…_

_He didn't have to wait long. Five minutes after Martin and Radolf departed, D'Arcy entered, looking very smug-_

_Until he saw that Oliver was gone._

"_Where is he?" He snarled at the French man, shutting the door behind him._

"_He woke up and I told him to leave. He obeyed me – thanks to that chemical whatsit."_

"_You lie!" D'Arcy backhanded Emile again. "Why did you not get him to untie you?"_

"_Because I am no use to him. I told him to run. Just… run away from here."_

_D'Arcy glared at him, but shook his head. "No matter. I will find him one day." The Belgian man walked over to the fire exit. "I would say 'see you later' but I won't be… you won't see another damn thing in this world every again. So… bye!"_

_D'Arcy left… leaving Emile to wait until his death came… _

---------------------------

Demi: I understand there are a few questions unanswered, but please be patient with me. It's stressing enough to explain myself without confusing all you readers…

Please review, guys


	9. The Present

Demi: My BETA Tester, Phoenixandashes, is off galavanting in Germany - growls- so this crappy chappy might contain errors.

---------------------------------

"But what happened after that?"

Mr Thomas looked at Robert with very tired and watery eyes. He sighed and rubbed them. "I brought him back to our home and he woke up…" He put his head in his hands. "I hope I did the right thing…"

"You told him his name was Winter and various other lies because Oliver Polanski was dead, therefore Oliver couldn't just turn up in England, or you'd be charged with the biggest mass slaughter in modern times and kidnap of the Polanski heir. Also, if you didn't do so, you would put Oliver back in D'Arcy's line of fire… correct?"

Martin looked up at Robert, nodding. "I had to tell everyone we adopted him. Chelsea and Radolf created a fake certificate - of which I'm not proud of telling them to do so - and Friday was put in charge of looking after him, especially at school. It was a risk - he could have lost memory of education and all sorts."

"You…" Everyone went silent and looked at Enrique. "You… you did the r-right thing… but… why not tell us?" Tears flooded the baby blues. "We deserved the right to know! Do you know how much **shit** I've been through in one year without Oli?.!"

"Enrique, calm down, please." Robert said.

Enrique shut his eyes and clenched his teeth. "I'm going out - I need air."

He stood quickly and left the hotel room, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Do not worry about Enrique, Mr Thomas…" Robert said quietly, ruby eyes downcast. "I somehow knew he'd react in this way. He'll eventually cool down."

"How can you take this so calmly?" Friday asked, brow furrowed in confusion, making perfectly shaped eyebrows to slant over crystal blue eyes. "If I were in your shoes, I'd be ranting and raving, perhaps throwing a few chairs around."

"'Perhaps' being the key word - depending on what chairs you were talking about. She might chip a nail." Chelsea added.

"Fuck off."

"Friday!" Martin exclaimed.

"What?"

"Language!"

The eighteen year old crossed one leg over the other and folded her arms, eyes unfocused, but an angry glint within the azure depths.

"I'm taking this calmly because without doing so, I cannot think logically." The Griffon replied. "Meaning irrational things will happen, which might put all of us in danger."

The girl nodded understandingly. "Especially Winter… or Oliver…"

"This is going to get confusing…" Johnny muttered.

"Only for people with small brains." Chelsea shot back. "Meaning you."

Johnny glared.

"Play nice, kids." Martin warned.

"Yeah, McGregor: play nice!"

The Scottish lad growled. "If your father wasn't here…" He let the threat trail off.

"Both of you, shush." Robert told them. "Now is not the time to be squabbling like silly school children."

They both stuck their tongues out at him and the German rolled his eyes.

"The only question now is what do we do?" Everyone looked at Radolf. The redhead sighed. "I mean, you now know Oliver's alive, but he can't just appear after one year… and Winter Thomas can't just disappear – and how to we tell LaDawn?"

"Who's LaDawn?" Johnny asked.

"Ehm…" Radolf said. "Winter's girlfriend."

"Oli got a girlfriend, eh?" Johnny couldn't help but smirk.

"No, **Winter** has a girlfriend." Chelsea corrected.

"Whatever."

"She's an understanding girl, Radolf." Martin said. "I say we go back home and… talk about this."

"And what about Winter himself?" Friday asked. "How… how can we tell him he's not who he… he's someone else? Someone who's supposed to be dead!"

"Let's walk before we run, shall we?" Robert suggested calmly, ruby red meeting sapphire blue. "But I do agree that we will need to figure out how to break the news to him… if we do that at all…" The noble looked down at the blue carpet, eyes unfocused. "Oliver Polanski is dead - metaphorically. He can't just appear… going to the authority will just class us as mentally unstable, even with evidence…"

"We won't win, will we?" Friday asked softly.

Robert looked up with blazing red eyes. "We might not, but we won't go down without a fight."

---------------------------------

Enrique collapsed onto his bed with a large sigh, sniffing back tears that stung his eyes.

He should be happy… shouldn't he? He'd found out his best friend wasn't dead…

His mind, body and soul were in overload with emotions, no rational thought within the blonde's head.

If Oliver had been at the reunion, all the shit with the restaurant wouldn't have dragged Oliver down…

But if Oliver hadn't 'died', then the team wouldn't be as together as they were now…

But if Oliver was still around, they could have had one more pot shot at Tyson or Boris with his BEGA league…

Enrique decided - if it was the last thing he did, he would find D'Arcy and watch the bastard die slowly and painfully…

There was a tentative knock at the suite's door. Enrique ignored it, burying his face deeper into the pillow and holding his breath…

"Please, Enrique…" Came the voice, muffled by the wooden door and distance. "It's me - I know you're in there… I saw you enter… I need to talk to you… it's about Oliver."

---------------------------------

Demi: Please review - i'm extremely stressed at the moment, and encouragement would be very much appreciatted


	10. The Future?

Demi: a quick update, cos i'm rather pleased about how this fic is getting on its feet again -grins- thanks for your reviews last chapter. My BETA tester has returned (hah, she couldn't stay away from me for long!) so this has gained the **Phoenix Seal Of Approval** from Phoenixandashes

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"I need to talk to you… it's about Oliver."

Enrique let out a shuddering breath - the one he had been holding in - and turned his face to gaze at the entrance to the suite through his open bedroom doorway, blue eyes distance and drowning in themselves from the tears of misery.

Another knock. "Please, Enrique…"

Enrique stood slowly, and moved over to the front door. Upon reaching the solid oak, he reached out with a shaky hand to grip the lock handle. Hesitantly, he opened the door…

"Winter…"

The other boy looked just as lost as the blonde. "C…Can I come in…?"

Enrique paused before shaking his head to uncloud his mind. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. Not with it at the moment."

Winter passed by him and entered the big hotel suite, letting Enrique guide him over to a couch.

"It's nice."

"What is?"

"Your room - it's very grand. My family could never afford such a room."

_'Yes they could… if you knew who your real family was…'_

"You said you needed to speak to me… about Oliver."

Winter took in a deep breath. "I overheard what my father was talking about…"

Baby blue eyes widened.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Am I… Oliver Polanski?" Winter fixed him with a pleading look. "And be honest, please."

The Italian swallowed hard. "…Y-yes… you are Oliver… everything your… _father_ said was true."

Winter sat quietly, purple eyes on the carpeted floor, fingers laced with one another to stop them shaking and skin pale.

He shut his eyes slowly. "So I've lived a lie for a year…"

"No… well, yeah, but…" Enrique laid a hand on Winter's shoulder.

"Why… didn't they t-tell me?"

"Many reasons, Winter." The blonde whispered. "But… things'll work out."

"I always felt like there was something more to me – something hidden inside my soul, even." The boy continued and standing up, walking a few steps away. "It felt like something was wrong with me… that I was someone different… no, that there was another side to me…"

"Even before the fire, you were someone different." Enrique replied, also standing. "Oliver was someone very unique – you're very unique."

"Not me – I'm not unique! I'm not Oliver!" Winter whirled around. "Oliver died."

"No – Oliver is still alive." The Italian protested, grabbing the small wrist tightly. "He's still in there – I can tell."

Purple and blue connected, nothing else happening outside to them…

"Let go…" Enrique whispered softly. "But stay with me."

Winter frowned, but carried on returning the stare. "How?"

"Think about…" Enrique stopped. "Remember how much we used to share and how close we were… remember how Robert helped Tyson all those years ago… remember how annoying Johnny is twenty-four-seven…"

"Mon Dieu…" Winter whispered, accent suddenly very familiar.

Enrique tried to suppress a smile. "Oliver…?"

"I think so…" The boy whispered, before blacking out.

Enrique managed to catch the falling boy and ease him onto the couch. His heart thudded against his rib cage. He slumped into the armchair and rubbed his eyes with shaking hands…

---------------------------

"What do you mean, 'He's gone'?" Friday shrieked.

"He means that Winter's not in his room, idiot." Chelsea retorted. "But how could he get out?"

"The window might just be open…" Radolf mumbled.

"Oh great…"

"But why would he go?" Johnny asked. "Unless he heard…"

"Oh fuck…"

"Chelsea, language." Martin said reflexively. "We cannot delay – we have to find him."

"Where would he normally go?"

"Uhm… the park… a coffee bar… I dunno!" Friday cried.

"Calm down, please." Robert said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Mr Thomas is right – we have to split up and search for him. If he did indeed hear about his true identity, he will feel lost and lied to." The Noble turned to Johnny. "Go to Enrique – see if he's okay and if he's willing to help find Winter. Don't drag him along though… he's probably under a lot of stress…"

Johnny nodded and exited the hotel room silently.

Robert sat down with a sigh, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "To think that twenty-four hours ago, I was having dinner with my parents and Oliver was not in my world anymore… now… I find out Oliver is still alive and there's a chance that a homicidal maniac is after him." The Griffon stayed silent for a few heartbeats, before standing. "Come on – the sooner we find him, the sooner we can find a solution."

---------------------------

"Enrique?"

There was no answer.

Johnny frowned and shut the door with a 'hm'. "Where could he be?"

Something to the side of him caught his eye. In the armchair was a dozing Enrique and on the couch was a sleeping Winter. Johnny couldn't help but sigh in relief – very uncharacteristic of him – they were safe.

He moved over to the Italian and was about to wake him up, but another thing caught his eye – an open book, upon the table.

"His journal?" The Scottish lad could spot Enrique's journal from a mile away. Of course he could – he had tried to steal and read it many a time.

Looking down at the open, double-spread page, his plum eyes widened at the two, large, scribbled words –

_HE'S BACK._


	11. They're Back

Demi: Hooray! For the line breakers have returned! -does li'l dance- And also for my new formal format!

_Chapter no. :_ 11  
_Chapter title:_ They're Back  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed:_ **Phoenix Seal Of Approval  
**_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing, Tony Blair-bashing, me doing a dance within my ending authoress' notes... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Twilight.road.to.nightfall  
Also known as Lili93  
Winterblazewolf  
Kris24 and Alix13  
Lyrikkal**  
_Notes:_ Yes, line breakers are back. Finally...

* * *

Johnny had called Robert, alerting the noble of the newest turn of events. The Griffon had remained silent for a heartbeat or two before telling the knight he was heading over to the hotel.

The Scottish lad had left the other boys where they were, settling for watching the television at a low volume. It was all the same - someone's been murdered, a celebrity's gone into rehab, Tony Blair's screwed Britain up yet again…

Around ten minutes after Johnny had made the call to Robert, the big clock chimed seven and, as if on cue, the hotel suite door opened. Robert stepped in, Friday behind him, wearing more suitable shoes than high heels - settling for silver pumps.

Johnny turned the television off and stood up. "Finally…"

"Is he okay?" Friday asked, before Robert could utter a word, rushing over to Winter's unconscious form.

"Yeah, I think."

"Is Enrique alright?" The German questioned the Scottish lad, who nodded. "He looks highly exhausted… this must be rather stressing for him."

"Very stressing." Johnny agreed. "But for all of us too."

Robert only nodded and watched Friday look over Winter, smoothing down his hair and gripping his hand in hers.

"Do the others know we found him?"

"Yes." The noble replied. "Friday contacted them - they're either heading to or at their hotel."

Johnny nodded, sighing. "What now?"

"We wait until the morning comes. Then we decide our next steps."

"But what if Winter wakes up?" Asked Friday.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because he is."

The noble and knight moved over to the couch, and clouded purple eyes met with Robert's first, then Johnny's.

"Robert…" Came the raspy voice. "What's going on?"

"Winter?"

He frowned. "Why're you calling me that, mon ami?"

Robert, Johnny and Friday froze.

"Oliver?"

The green-haired boy nodded slowly. "Yes… Friday… what are you doing here?"

"How do you know her, Oliver?"

"She's my cousin, Johnny… why wouldn't I know her?"

"Oh… well…" Johnny looked pleadingly at Robert.

"Oliver, do you remember anything of the past year?" The noble asked, seating himself in the armchair next to Oliver. "Anything at all?"

The French teen blinked. "Have I been in some sort of coma?"

"…You could say that…"

"Winter - Oliver - what about the fire? Don't you remember the fire?"

"Friday," Robert soothed, laying a hand on her arm, "Slowly…"

She bit her glossed lip and nodded. "Sorry…"

"Fire…" Oliver whispered. "At… at the L'Mange… oui?"

"Yes, carry on… take your time."

"…D'Arcy… he came to see father…" There was a long pause. "I remember reading in the papers that I had died… but how could I do so if I am here? I do remember a fire… Nuits-St-George… the wine… uhm… a girl with platinum-blue hair…"

"Oliver, listen to me - D'Arcy somehow drugged you and you lost your memory. Your uncle and Radolf found you and rescued you before the fire could spread. You've lived under the pretence of being a boy named Winter Thomas. Do you understand me so far?"

"I-I think."

Robert resisted the urge to smack Johnny for his little rant. "Oliver - think hard about this - but take your time. We need both Winter's and your memory to be together."

Oliver's forehead creased with a slight frown but he nodded, eyes downcast. Robert stood and ruffled the summer-green hair.

"It's good to have you back, though, Oliver. We all missed you." The noble said with a smile, before disappearing into his room.

"Is Enrique okay? He looks… dishevelled." Oliver asked.

"When is he ever not?" Johnny asked, sarcasm very evident, as he draped himself, sideways, on the other armchair, legs hanging over the arm rest. "He looked like that everytime he came back from one of his dates - huh, which was everyday."

"I was starting to miss your sarcasm, Johnny-boy." Came the mumble from the armchair. Baby blues opened blearily. "Now I realised why I never did."

"Fuck you, Giancarlo."

"Rather you didn't." Enrique replied dryly, with a cheeky smirk, since he knew he was pissing the Scottish knight off. The Italian turned to Oliver. "Oli… you okay?"

The French boy nodded. "I think. Things are so… complicated, though. I'm supposed to be dead - now I'm being told I lived a lie for a year."

"Hey, enough of the complicated stuff." Friday chided. "Think simple for the night or your brains will fry. I'm gunna go check on Robert, then I'm gunna head back to my hotel, okay?"

"Kay."

The blonde stood and went over to Robert's bedroom door, knocking softly, before entering.

"Fuck, Oli, your cousin's hot. She on the market?"

"And everything's back to normal…" Johnny muttered, tipping his bandana over his eyes.

* * *

"Didn't think you were the drinking type."

Robert turned sharply from his position on the balcony. "Friday…" He glanced down at the small glass of brandy and shrugged. "Need it."

A smile came her glossy lips when she noticed his attire - his white shirt was half open, hair tousled and shoes not on his feet - they were placed under the bed neatly.

"You also look like you need a mirror."

In her mind, she snorted. _'Yeah right - he looks sexy like this. If this is what he looks like without a mirror, I'm confiscating every mirror within his reach! Ooh, naughty thoughts, Friday Thomas - you minx.'_

Again, Robert shrugged and turned back round, leaning on the stone railing.

She stepped out on the stone overhang, which was situated right on the top of the hotel, and gazed over the city of London. Bright lights twinkled and winked at them, the pink and orange glow on the horizon signalling the setting of the sun. The sounds of the always-busy traffic buzzed below, horns honking and engines revving.

She glanced at him through the corner of her eye, watching him raise the brandy glass to his lips and take a sip.

"You guys are taking this a lot better than I would." She commented.

"Maybe…" Robert replied. "You just have to take it how it is and as calmly as you can."

"Still… it's almost as if you've been faced with this kind of situation before."

"Yes, Friday - I make people pretend to die, then they appear so that when the real event arises, I will be extremely professional."

Friday stuck her tongue out at him. "You know what I mean."

Something in her coat vibrated and she dug within her pocket, pulling out a small red Sliver phone.

"Heya daddy." She said sweetly into the microphone, twirling a straightened strand of hair around her index finger. "Oh, um, sure." She held the phone out to Robert. "My dad wants to speak to you."

Robert blinked, placing his glass of brandy on the banister, taking the small phone and holding it to his ear. "Hello, Mr Thomas." A frown slashed his brow, before it was replaced with a rather shocked expression. "I sort it out. Bring their things around to my hotel suite quick."

"What's going on, Robert?" Friday asked when the noble hung up.

Robert fixed her with a sharp, fierce ruby stare. "D'Arcy has been spotted - and he looks happy about something."

* * *

Demi: -innocently smiling- hm...? Oh yes, right-

/does the green-eBay-dude-dance/

Please review.


	12. Fighting Fire With Fire

_Chapter no. :_ 12  
_Chapter title:_ Fighting Fire With Fire  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed:_ **Phoenix Seal Of Approval  
**_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Also known as Lili93  
Winterblazewolf  
Kris24 and Alix13  
Lyrikkal**  
_Notes: _Sorry for a rather delayed update. I've been ill and i have so much shit in my head, it's getting a lil crowded up here, so updates may be slower. Until they get sorted out, this will be the case... -snorts- yeah-fucking-right... when i get these probelms sorted out, hell will have risen and heaven will have fallen... which will fit me just fine.

* * *

"He's what?" Friday shrieked, following Robert back inside. "Oh God…" She watched him as he pulled out a black flip-phone from the pocket of his jacket that was hanging on the door handle. "And who are you phoning now?" 

"Someone who can help." Was all she got in reply, before he put the phone to his ear and started talking in a language she didn't even recognise.

She rushed out of the room, and into the living area. "Guys, bad news."

"What? You chipped a nail?" Johnny asked sarcastically, bandana still over his eyes.

"Shut up, McGregor - it's serious."

"Oh, so you've chipped two?"

She grabbed a pillow from the second couch and screamed into it. Looking back up, she turned to Oliver and Enrique. "D'Arcy's been spotted in London and he's apparently happy about something and that can only be something bad for us and I think dad, Chelse and Rad are coming over with our things and Robert's being an arse and he's ringing someone and he's not telling me who he's ringing - only someone who can help - and we're most likely all in danger and yes, McGregor, I did chip a nail!"

The three boys blinked at her.

"Okay… a minute or so on and finally it's registered." Johnny muttered. He pushed his bandana up and sat right on the chair. "Did he say anything else?"

"Did the word 'arse' register to you?" She hissed.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then."

"Friday, just calm down." Oliver soothed, slowly sitting up and patting the space next to him. She sat down and he hugged her, resting his dizzy head against her shoulder. "Robert's Robert and your dad is coming over - we'll figure something else."

She seemed to pout sadly and continued to look down at her pumps, blue eyes trying to flood with tears, but she wouldn't allow them.

They sat in silence for some time, Robert's voice echoing through from the other room, but they didn't understand the strange language.

"Johnny, Enrique, pack your things - when Mr Thomas gets here, we're leaving." Robert told them, quickly, before moving back into his room.

The two boys blinked at each other before doing as they were told, both hesitantly - Enrique because he was confused, and Johnny because he didn't want to obey the noble… but he heard the stern, icy tone that hinted punishment if he were to flout the Griffon's words.

Friday and Oliver were left in the living area, left in their own thoughts, wondering what would happen next…

* * *

"We're expecting visitors." 

He looked at the other. "What?"

"He's coming - with his friends." He fixed him with a knowing stare. "We have to be ready."

"Yes…" The second nodded. "I'll go warn the others. Don't want them unaware, ne?" He paused. "But one thing… I never knew he had friends."

"You're a bastard, you know."

"I know."

* * *

"McGregor - I am _not_ a library book - stop checking me out! If you do so one more time, I swear I'll chuck you off this goddamn plane _without_ the parachute!" 

Radolf winced and smiled apologetically at Robert, who was sat opposite him on the private plane. "Sorry about her…"

"I'm sorry about Johnny." The noble admitted.

"Ah, sod Johnny-boy - he's a bastard any day of the week." Enrique said nonchalantly, with a casual wave of his hand. "No need to be sorry for him."

"We should never have let those two on a plane together though." Oliver replied, head resting on Friday's lap and lying on another area of seating, still strangely weak. "I'm wondering if the redhead-tribe is having a constant civil war."

"Wha-?"

"What he means, Enrique," Robert filled in, "is that he's wondering if all redheads have arguments with one another." He glanced at Radolf. "Minus twins."

"Oh, not always twins, Robert." Friday replied. "Those two have hellish arguments. I swear they argue so mum and dad don't have to."

"Sorry for a change in topic, but where are we going again? And why isn't Mr Thomas with us?" Enrique cut in.

Robert closed his eyes, almost mimicking what had been known as the 'Kai-pose' - his arms and legs crossed, and facial expression neutral, yet somewhat frustrated.

"Where we are going, you'll have to wait and find out. And as for Mr Thomas - he could not accompany us or it would arouse suspicion."

"Oh and us not coming along isn't?" Chelsea asked sarcastically, peeking over the top of the couch.

"You are coming with us because you are in danger if you do not."

"But, Robert, you do realise that we're in the Daily Mail, don't you?" Chelsea pointed out.

"We are?" Friday beamed. "Did I look alright?"

"You looked fine, Fri." Radolf laughed.

"But if you did actually read the article-"

"Hey, I only saw the picture - you were rushing us through the terminal."

"If you would have been able to read the article, it only stated you as new friends - they are speculating that we are replacing Oliver with Radolf."

Enrique blinked. "Why would they say that?"

"Rad's the London District Bey-Champion." Friday said proudly. "Him and Faélan kick butt."

"They do make a great team." Oliver added. "On more than one occasion he nearly beat me."

"Wow, remind me to challenge Mr London-Champion, then." Enrique said with a grin. "Once we get to wherever we're going…"

Robert shot a glare at the blonde, who returned it.

"All I can say is that it's somewhere cold."

"And we are going to this particular place… why?"

Robert looked Friday dead in the eye. "Ever heard the saying, 'Fight fire with fire'? We're doing the same."


	13. Well, Fuck Me

_Chapter no. :_ 13  
_Chapter title:_ Well, Fuck Me...  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed:_ **Phoenix Seal Of Approval  
**_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_VERY VERY VERY big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Also known as Lili93  
Winterblazewolf**  
_Notes: _Sorry for another slow update. I lost the memory stick that had this story on it and after a week or so of frantically searching, crying, shouting, and accusing every person within five miles of stealing it, I found it... in my cats bed... -shakes fist at Cuddles- and then I got a measly amount of reviews, which took my motivation riiiiight down. But then i thought, "Hang on, there are three people who ALWAYS review and are very faithful to this story... it would be very unfair on them, so..." here I am updating. This chapter is dedicated to my three reviewers -big cheesy grin-

* * *

"We're fighting fire with fire." The noble said, before standing and moving into the cockpit, shutting the door behind him.

Johnny glared at the closed door. "Why the hell does he have to speak in stupid riddles all the time."

"Actually, they're clever riddles." Chelsea protested. "You're just too stupid to figure them out."

"Why you-!"

"Kids, settle down!" Enrique shouted.

"Call me a kid one more time, and I'll-"

"Or you'll what, McGregor? Bore me with your retardedness?"

"Hey guys!" Radolf called, from his position next to one of the many windows. "Look outside!"

They complied, each looking out of a window to stare at a snowy city below.

"Is this… Russia? It looks like it…" Johnny asked. "Yeah, we flew over this exact area when we came here during the championships we fought against Boris."

"Wait…" Oliver said, eyes closed and still lying down. "Robert said we were fighting fire with fire, right? Well, it might just be Kai. Kai's Russian. Fighting with fire; Dranzer is a phoenix - a fire bird. And due to the fact, Kai and Robert do get on well."

"Oh great…" Johnny complained. "So he's taking it to the extreme too and we're fighting a homicidal maniac with another homicidal maniac!"

"I'd say you're jealous."

The knight spluttered and turned to the redheaded girl. "What? Why would I be jealous of someone capable of murder?"

"Because you're not at the status of 'homicidal maniac'." She replied with a drawl. "You're at the point of 'suicidal maniac' - you annoy people so much, they want to commit suicide."

Johnny sent an icy glare at Chelsea, but settled for sitting away from her, his back facing her.

"Men's pride…" She muttered darkly.

"But if he was a suicidal maniac, he would be… well, suicidal all the time."

"Ah, Enrique, you bring up a good point." Chelsea drawled, slinging an arm around the Italian. "He is a suicidal maniac not just because people wish to kill themselves around him, but also, he has realised he is retarded, so does not wish to continue with his retarded life."

"Oh, sing it, sister!"

Oliver laughed. "Come on, lay of him, guys."

A 'ding!' cut him off from saying anything further and above them, the seatbelt sign lit up.

Friday helped the weak French teen sit up, making him chuckle. "Look at me – can't even sit up."

"It's not your fault, Oli." Enrique replied, sitting opposite the teen, clicking his seatbelt in place. "It's that stupid drug – it'll wear off."

Oliver just 'hm'ed, looking out of the window, watching the tarmac come ever closer, till the whole craft jolted as it hit the ground when his eyes clenched shut in reflex.

Within five minutes, the plane was docked and the air lock opened. Everyone stood, grabbing their hand luggage as they did so. Enrique helped Oliver stand and walk, Friday carrying Oliver's bag and Radolf Enrique's.

They went through passport control successfully and collected their main luggage, and ended up sat in a nice, quaint coffee house.

Friday kept her fingers wrapped around the mug of steaming hot chocolate. "You know, even in this coffee place, I still feel cold…"

"That's because you just gotta get warmed up." Radolf reassured, hugging her tightly and rubbing her forearm to get her warmer. "We'll stay here till you're warm enough, kay?"

"And this is why I'm glad I'm his twin."

Enrique blinked. "Why?"

"Well, if I wasn't, I'd most likely end up like Friday - no offence Fri. But I hate the thought of wearing such short skirts and stuff." Chelsea explained. "I like being a tomboy."

"So when are we meeting our mystery host?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, come on, Oliver - we know it's Kai." Johnny retorted.

"It was only a guess. We could not actually know them."

"Soon." Robert replied. "They'll be here any minute."

"Would any minute be now?" Enrique asked, eyes wide and staring past Robert's head.

"Why do you ask that?" Robert asked before looking around. His face broke into a slight smile. "Yes. Any minute would mean now."

Everyone stared wide eyed at the two people who approached the coffee house.

"No fuck…" Radolf whispered.

"Oh, now you really have cracked, Jurgen!" Johnny snapped. "We really are fighting a homicidal maniac with another! I mean - _him_, Robert? We have to stay with _him_?"

"Quiet Johnny." Robert shushed as the two sat down at the large table.

Chelsea blinked in surprise. "Well, fuck me - if it isn't Tala Ivanov and Bryan Kuznetsov."


	14. Tomfoolery

_Chapter no. :_ 14  
_Chapter title: _Tomfoolery  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed:_ **Phoenix Seal Of Approval  
**_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_VERY VERY VERY big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf**  
_Notes: _-stares dumbly at readers- Yeah... thanks a lot guys. You **really** know how to make a goddess happy, don't you? Oh, and by the by, i'm being **sarcastic**.  
_Dedication:_ The Johnny McKilt Productions and Winterblazewolf for actually making me feel special and loved. And now i'm being serious.

* * *

Chelsea blinked in surprise. "Well, fuck me - if it isn't Tala Ivanov and Bryan Kuznetsov." 

The two Russians looked at her with frowns, then at Friday.

"You know, Robert…" Tala drawled, accent thick. "When I said that your little friends could come along too, I didn't mean Giancarlo's groupies."

"Hey, dude." Chelsea snapped. "If you hate the guy so much, you really shouldn't flatter him."

"Amen, sister." Friday laughed, high fiving with her sister. "And a hello, would be nice."

"Hello - who the hell are you?"

"Oh, the Russian manners have surfaced… and how gracious they are…"

Friday gave him a tart look. "I'm Friday Thomas. This is my sister Chelsea and he's Radolf, my brother."

"Mm hm - and _why_ are you here?"

"We're Oliver's cousins and we're the ones who fostered him as Winter for a year." Radolf replied quietly, silently thanking Friday for choosing the corner table furthest away from anyone else.

"And we're the ones who are putting our necks on the line to keep him away from the homicidal maniac." Friday added, not exactly pleased at how the two boys had welcomed them.

"Then why are we with Bryan…?" Johnny muttered.

"Johnny, stop being so blatantly jealous." Chelsea mock-scolded.

Robert shot the two an apologetic look.

"**No need to apologise, Griffon.**" Tala said, in Russian. "**Though you should have left McGregor in England… things would be more peaceful without him.**"

"**I understand your point, but do you really want to end up saving him from D'Arcy?**"

"**No thank you.**" Bryan replied in a bored tone. "**But would we really have to save him?**"

"**Bryan, stop being a bastard for once.**"

Bryan snorted. "**Why're you standing up for Mr I'm-So-High-And-Mighty-And-Obssessed-With-Hiwatari?**"

"Okay, the four words I understood in those six or so sentences were 'D'Arcy', 'McGregor', 'Bryan' and 'Hiwatari'." Enrique muttered. "Mind talking in English, so we can understand?"

Tala pretended to think about it. "Niet." He said finally with a smirk.

Robert rolled his eyes at the confused look on Enrique's face. "He means, 'no'."

"God, you haven't changed much since we last saw you." Johnny scoffed. "I think I preferred you in that coma."

"Hm… so do I, actually… wouldn't have to stare at your ugly mug."

"Why you-!"

"Johnny! Down boy!"

Bryan turned to Tala. "**I like her. The redhead girl.**"

Tala couldn't help but smirk. "**Anyone who can control McGregor you like… apart from Kai.**"

"**Nah… Kai can't control McGregor.**"

"Will you stop talking about me?" Johnny snapped at them. "I'm not deaf, you know."

"We never thought you were deaf… we only assumed you were dumb…"

"Hey," Friday interrupted the Knight before he could retort, "at least he's speaking English."

"Enough Tomfoolery." Robert sighed. "Shall we go so we can discuss our next move?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth, Griffon." Tala drawled, standing. "Come on."

They all stood, chairs scraping against the tiled floor. Tala, Bryan and Robert took the lead, the others following them, with Enrique supporting Oliver – with Friday next to them – at the back.

"Something wrong with…" Tala managed to stop the name escaping. "_Winter_?"

"He's weak." Robert explained. "We have yet to find out why, but my theory is it's the drug D'Arcy gave him. It might be tiring for him to maintain being himself."

Tala nodded. "It is – trust me, I know."

"And I do trust you and I know why you know. Why else would I contact you?"

"Because you miss me and you can't resist my natural charm."

Bryan rolled his eyes. "**I don't know how you manage to fit your ego in here, Wolfie.**"

"Bastard."

"I know."

"You two haven't changed a bit." Robert chuckled. "How is Spencer?"

"The same."

"And Ian?"

"As annoying as ever."

"What of Bryony?"

"As cute as when you last saw her." Tala replied. "So, not at all like Bryan."

The silver haired lad shot him a glare.

"What?" Tala returned the glare with a mischievous smirk, blue eyes glinting. "You _want _to be cute?"

"**I'll leave that to Bryony…**" The Falcon muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Thought so…" Tala looked at Robert. "So his cousins, eh? How'd you find them?"

"Well…" Robert shook his head sadly. "Johnny bumped into Winter himself - in a very literal manner - and then Chelsea and Friday found us this morning. Friday brought us back to their hotel suite and we met Mr Thomas - their father. Winter disappeared, went to Enrique and then Mr Thomas saw D'Arcy."

"And you say he looked pleased about something?"

Robert nodded. "Which is most likely bad for us."

"Indeed."

"**You do realise**," Bryan cut in, still comfortably in Russian, "**that we don't have enough seats for the rat pack, don't you, Tala?**"

"**Then someone rides with you.**"

Bryan snorted.

"**Choose someone you wouldn't scare or be tempted to chuck off the bike, please?**" Tala replied. "**I do not want to have to spend all night in the Police Station explaining that it wasn't your fault - it was actually the person who you killed being annoying.**"

"**So tempting…**"

"**So who's it going to be, Bry?**" Tala asked when they stopped beside the sliding doors that separated them from the cold of Moscow.

Bryan paused. "**Whoever.**" He replied with a shrug.

Tala nodded and turned to the rest of them. "Unfortunately, we don't have enough seats for all of you."

"That's smart…" Chelsea muttered.

Tala bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from retorting icily. He turned to Bryan. "**You may like her, but she bugs the hell out of me.**"

Bryan's only reply was a feral grin.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Tala drawled to the female twin. "That's why I'm making _you_ ride with Bryan on his bike."

"No she's not." Johnny snapped. "I'm not letting her within five feet of _him_."

"Well, that will be a bit hard to do… generally, for one to ride a motorbike with another, one has to be a maximum of an inch apart…"

"And stop being jealous, Johnny-boy!" Chelsea added. "Just cos you want to cuddle up to Bryan, doesn't mean you have to make me lose _my _chance!"

Johnny spluttered, turning red. "Why you little-!"


	15. She's a flirt

_Chapter no. :_ 15  
_Chapter title: _She's a flirt - and my gosh, don't she know it?  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed:_ **Phoenix Seal Of Approval  
**_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_VERY VERY VERY big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf  
IceS**  
_Notes: _-stares dumbly at readers- Yeah... thanks a lot guys. You **really** know how to make a goddess happy, don't you? Oh, and by the by, i'm being **sarcastic**.  
_Dedication:_ The Johnny McKilt Productions, Winterblazewolf and IceS for actually making me feel special and loved. And now i'm being serious.

* * *

"So who's Bryony?"

Bryan glanced at Chelsea as they walked through the airport's car park. "What?"

"I overheard Robert asking you guys how your team was, but then he asked how 'Bryony' was." The redhead cocked her head. "New teammate?"

"Possibly."

"Mm hm… girlfriend?"

"Hang on." Bryan stopped walking and turned to the English girl. "I've known you – what? – less than an hour."

"Your point?"

"What gives you the right to interrogate me?"

"Interrogate?" She let out a laugh and began to start walking again. "You think that's interrogation, you got another thing coming, Bryan-honey." She saw him continue walking too in the corner of her emerald green eyes. "And besides, I'm only wanting to get to know the people who I'm gunna be living with for God-knows-how-long."

Bryan grunted and caught up with her. "She's my sister."

"Oh. And here was me thinking the supposedly-ice-cold Falcon had warmed up to someone."

"What? A girl with a name just like mine?" Bryan shook his head. "And besides… I think I am interested someone."

"Oh? Who?"

"Someone."

"Well, duh."

"Hm…" The Falcon rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "I've only known her a short time, but I can feel some attraction between us."

"Well, Falcon, I hope you two do get together." She replied with a sly smirk, giving him a wink.

"Flirt."

"And my gosh, don't I know it?"

"Never thought you would be the type."

"And how do you know my type?"

"Your clothing and body language." Bryan answered simply and emotionlessly. "They don't scream, 'I'm yours - fuck me' does it? They scream more, 'Fuck me and die'."

"The first one would be Friday."

Bryan raised an eyebrow. "I thought that was the name of a day in your language."

"It is." Chelsea replied casually. "I guess mum and dad wanted to be different. I mean, Rad's the same, kinda. I know his name means 'red wolf' and it fits cos he has a fire wolf as a bit beast - he got it from dad - but it's a totally strange name."

"And yours? I would have thought your father would have chosen 'Liverpool' or 'West Ham'."

Chelsea blinked, before giving a sarcastic laugh. "Hah-hah, funneh. But why do you say those teams? And how do _you_ know about them?"

"First up - your accent. It doesn't sound South Eastern. And how do I know about them? Ian. He's getting obsessed with soccer - or as you call it, _football_ - and supports Liverpool… for a reason, I don't know."

"Sounds like a weird kid… but it's a good team."

Bryan rolled his eyes. "You would say that, wouldn't you? You live there."

"Chester, actually." She replied with a wink. "Oh, is that your bike?"

Bryan nodded. "And finally. Now you can shut up."

"Oh? Make me."

Bryan only gave a feral smirk.

* * *

"Woo, let's do that again…"

Bryan didn't reply. He only propped the motorbike against the garage wall and walked through an open doorway, up stairs and out of sight.

Chelsea pouted - something very unlike her. "Fine then - go back to being a mean Falcon - like I care."

"Then why do you pout?" Came the shout from the stairs.

"How the hell do you know I'm pouting?" She yelled back, starting for the stairs.

"Because I'm special."

"Special - my arse."

"I know it is."

Chelsea stopped, gaping like a fish out of water. "You what?"

A deep laugh was her reply. She closed her mouth - thanking any deity that Bryan couldn't see her - and screwed her face up in a glare, before rushing up the stairs - which looked like those stairs within multi-storeys.

When she finally caught up with him, they were half a floor beneath the door. Bryan was casually leaning against the concrete wall, arms crossed over his athletic chest and pale eyes staring directly into her emerald ones.

"And how, may I ask, Mr Kuznetsov, do you know my arse is special?" She smirked slyly. "Been looking?"

"Might have." He replied.

"Hang on, we've known each other - what? - less than an hour. What gives you the right to look?" She asked, mimicking his earlier words.

"This right."

He pulled her forwards by grabbing her wrist and covered her mouth with his. She groaned quietly and replied, leaning against him. His arm slipped around her waist, while hers curled around his neck to card through his moonlight hair.

But when he brushed his tongue over her lips, she pulled back.

"That doesn't mean you have the right to look at my arse." She pointed out quietly. "Neither do you have the right to kiss me."

"You want it too."

"True." She admitted.

When he leaned forward again, she placed a finger on his lips, smirking slyly once again.

"Nah-ah. You'll get spoilt."

"Tease."

"And my gosh, don't I know it?" She replied, moving away and walking up the remaining stairs. "Hey, you going to give me a tour or what, Falcon? That wall won't appreciated being leant on all day."

Bryan couldn't help but roll his eyes.

* * *

Please - just like a review saying 'Plz update, i luv it' or some shit like that would be appreciatted! -is such a charmer-


	16. Fire

_Chapter no. :_ 16  
_Chapter title: _Fire  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed:_ Erm... I can't remember if Phoenix did BETA this... -laughs nervously-  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_VERY VERY VERY big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf  
IceS  
Hitorix**  
_Notes: _Holy Mary mother of God! -screams- i haven't updated this in donkeys! I got so side-tracked! -smacks self round head- So sorry. Bear with me. I sold my brain on eBay.

* * *

"Ian, shut up." 

The midget continued to cackle, amused to no end, due to the fact he had found out who they were sharing the dreaded Abbey with.

Oliver just stared at him. "I'm sorry, what is so funny?"

"He must've looked in the mirror." Johnny replied boredly.

It was the day after arriving. They were all sat in the large, rustic-style kitchen, around the oak table. The Majestics and English friends seemed to stay at one end of the table, whereas the Blitzkrieg Boys sat at the other, the teams facing each other; although, Bryan and Chelsea were no where to be seen.

Ian finally raised his head off the table, stopped banging his fist and ceased his laughing in order to glare at the Scot. "Hah, like you've ever looked in one, McGregor." He retorted.

"Please, Ian." Tala insisted, although his lips curled in a smirk. "At least try to show some sort of manners."

"He was never taught them." Spencer said.

"Too true, too true…"

Robert shook his head sadly. "And the world thinks you are all emotionless gits."

"We are." The Wolf answered. "When we feel like being rather annoying."

"You do that rather well without being emotionless, Ivanov."

He ignored the Lizard. "Now, Robert, we know your predicament, and - putting aside all differences from the past - we are willing to help. We owe you for all you've done." He glanced at the others. "Please note I'm only referring to Robert. You all have done Jack-shit."

"Hey, we brought down Boris." Enrique pointed out.

"Helped." Oliver corrected. He turned to Tala. "Listen, Tala, whatever your reasons for helping us, at least you are."

"Indeed." Came a voice from the spiralling staircase that led up to the main area of the Abbey. "Lord knows how you'd fair if he was against you."

"Hiwatari…" Johnny growled.

"I guess this is the part where Chelse would say, 'Down Boy'." Friday put in.

"Amen." Enrique whispered. "And someone put a muzzle on him - we haven't been able to put more than a sentence in with him barking and bitching."

Kai did indeed enter the kitchen, wearing a loose, white shirt - a black tie undone, but hanging around his neck - and smart, black trousers. His now-quite-long two-toned hair was tied back and the blue shark fins were still present upon porcelain cheeks. He also carried a stack of papers within his grasp.

Carefully, he spread the papers out on the table in front of them. An assortment of photographs, clipped newspaper articles and data attacked their eyes, screaming so many stories.

"D'Arcy Cullen has been very active lately - he's been spending and travelling - China, Japan, America, Germany, Africa…" The blunette looked up from the deep oak, staring at Oliver. "There is one country, however, that is most surprising."

He passed a photograph over to Tala.

The redhead frowned at the picture. "This is a satellite photo of Antarctica."

"Why would he go there?" Friday asked. "Isn't it, like, the coldest place on Earth?"

"Exactly." Kai continued. "The perfect place to conduct his plans in peace - in a place where there aren't even indigenous tribes to bother him… albeit the penguins and such."

"Well, you never know - penguins might get pissed off at him one day…" Tala muttered. "So where's his base?"

"Still have to figure that one out." The Phoenix frowned. "And what was that shit about penguins? What did you smoke today?"

"A cigarette - your point?" Ice blue and fiery red connected, the former more humoured than the latter.

Kai rolled his eyes. "He generally, though, spends his time in France." He looked up, once again, at Oliver. "For a reason I don't think you'll be happy about, Polanski."

He pushed a newspaper clipping - attached to a piece of card - towards the French teen, before going back to shifting through the papers and conversing with Tala in Russian.

'_Fire still rages in - within widowed Polanski's heart, that is.'_

_'It seems that Marie Polanski has finally moved on from the loss of her husband, Emile Polanski, and son, Oliver Polanski. One year on, she has opened her heart to a new man and has agreed to marry…'_

Oliver swallowed hard.

_'…D'Arcy Cullen…'_

Oliver felt like he couldn't breathe…

His mother was marrying his father's murderer…


	17. So Many Warnings

_Chapter no. :_ 17  
_Chapter title: _So Many Warnings  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed:_ Erm... I can't remember if Phoenix did BETA this... -laughs nervously- she might have BETAed the first half - second half is most definitely not BETAed...  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf  
IceS  
Shrouded-obssession**  
_Notes: _If you're wondering why this is having a late update (as well as a few of my other stories) it's because I'm working on my novel -le gasp- yes, people, I'm venturing out into the real world... I hope...

_

* * *

_

"Oli?" The Italian wrapped an arm around the French boy.

Everyone was gazing at Oliver, who was staring at the clipping with shock.

"I'm sorry, Oliver."

"'Sorry'?" Johnny snarled. "The day that you're truly sorry is when Hell freezes over, Hiwatari!" He stood and strode over to Oliver, snatching the paper out of the other's grip. Upon reading the article, he, too, paled. "Oh God…"

Enrique pulled Oliver against him, rubbing his forearm.

"**His mother is marrying the bastard.**" Kai explained to those who could speak Russian.

"**This give us a suitable reason to kill him, right?**"

"**No, Tala…**" Kai sighed, frustrated.

"…**Can we kill him anyway?**"

Another sigh from the Phoenix. "**If you wish.**"

"**You're going soft, Phoenix.**"

"**Nice of you to join us, Falcon.**" Kai greeted Bryan, as the older Russian stepped down into the kitchen and sat down next to Tala. "**Where's that redhead?**"

"**I'm here**."

"**Not you, Tala.**" Bryan rolled his eyes at a mischievously-grinning Wolf. "**She's sleeping.**"

"**Tired her out, eh, Falcon?** **Long night?**"

"**Very…**" The silver-haired one couldn't help but give a feral grin.

"Shut up!" Johnny snapped loudly. "If you're going to bitch, bitch in a language we can all understand!"

"Preferably English." Friday cut in.

"Preferably English." Johnny agreed.

"The reason we're _talking_ in Russian, McGregor," Bryan drawled, "is because the matters don't concern you."

"Oh fuck you, Kuznetsov."

"No thanks." The Falcon turned to his teammates. "**I know about everything, so you don't have to relay all the information tediously. I helped Kai with the research.**"

"**Well, look at you, Mr-Smarty-Pants-Who-Got-Laid-Last-Night.**"

"English!"

"**No!**"

Johnny and Bryan glared at each other, any object within their gazes upon the table burning to ashes; even the table had scorch marks. Everyone glanced at one another worriedly-

Until Chelsea wandered into the kitchen, wearing one of Bryan's t-shirts and a pair of his boxers, a little girl resting on her hip.

All looked up - even the Falcon and Lizard - and watched the two girls walk past them. Chelsea placed the metallic-lavender haired girl on the kitchen countertop and flicked the kettle on, before turning round and resting back on the counter.

She blinked. "Oh, don't stop on my account."

Johnny turned back to Bryan and glared at him again. "Why is she wearing your clothes, Kuznetsov? Scrap that, why is she wearing your _underwear_?"

"**I'm guessing the excuse of, 'she lost hers' won't work…**" Bryan commented to the others, causing them to snicker; even Robert allowed himself to smile.

"Are you stupid, McGregor?" The redheaded girl asked. "Usually when a girl wears a guy's boxers, it's after they had… a _sleepover_."

"You… and Bryan?"

Chelsea spotted her brother's frown and chuckled. "I appreciate your brotherly protectiveness, Rad, but drop it."

"Who's the girl?"

Radolf looked at Friday. "You don't care about your sister spending the night with _him_?" He hissed.

"Oh, it's about time she got laid." The blonde waved it off, earning a look of dirt from the redhead girl. "But who is she?"

"Her name's Bryony." Chelsea answered, as the girl smiled.

"Ha, it sounds just like 'Bryan' - ain't that weird?" Friday laughed.

"Oh you wonder why…" Tala muttered. "Is the whole of England retarded or is it just you three?"

"No, the whole of England." Chelsea answered, before snorting. "You should see our Prime Minister…" She turned to her sister. "Bryan and Bryony are siblings."

"Oh…"

"Does she talk?"

"Johnny!"

"What?"

"Down boy!"

"What?"

"Shut up!"

"What?"

"I _do_ talk." Bryony cut in, her voice angelic. "But Big Brother told me not to talk to strangers and weirdos…" She gave the redhead Scottish boy a smile that reminded everyone of the Falcon. "I guess he meant _you_, Johnny-boy."

"'_Johnny-boy_'? Why you little-!"

"Touch my sister, Lizard, and you'll regret it." The Falcon growled threateningly, voice dangerously low. "And can we get onto more important matters?" He rested his chin on his crossed arms on the table. "If I'd have known that we'd be discussing such _trivial_ matters, I'd have stayed up in my room."

"**And God knows you would have liked that**."

"**You're a pervert, Tala.**"

The redhead's only reply was a smirk.

"I'm agreeing with Bryan on this one - back to business." Kai interrupted, but just as he finished his sentence, an alarm blared. "Fuck!"

"What?"

Everyone stood, all the Russians reaching to their belts and gun holsters and sliding out their beyblade launchers, before reaching into pockets and pulling out a handful of bullets, swiftly slotting them in - everybody suddenly realising that those 'beyblade launchers' weren't as they seemed...

"What's going on?" Johnny demanded.

"_Intruder alert. Intruder alert._"

Tala's ice blue eyes swept to them. "That answer your question?"


	18. What the?

_Chapter no. :_ 18  
_Chapter title: _What The...?  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed:_ Erm... I can't remember if Phoenix did BETA this... -laughs nervously- she might have BETAed the first half - second half is most definitely not BETAed...  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf  
IceS  
Phoenixandashes**  
_Notes: _Um... ja ne?

* * *

"_Intruder alert. Intruder alert._ _Intruder alert. Intruder alert._"

The blare kept going, repeating and repeating, carving the words into their very skulls.

Running down one of the many hallways of the Abbey, the Majestics and Thomas siblings followed Tala and Ian, unsure of what was really going on. There was an intruder (or intruders) in the Abbey; either this person was after Oliver, sent by D'Arcy, or a very stupid burglar - no one broke into the feared Blitzkrieg boys' home.

"**Tala, where exactly are we going?**" Robert asked the redhead.

"**The underground bunker,**" The Wolf replied, turning a corner sharply. "**It's secure - you'll be safe. Bryan, Kai and Spencer have gone to investigate exactly what the hell is going on.**"

Robert couldn't help but frown. "**I cannot stand by whilst you face danger on my account.**"

"**Deal with it, Griffon.**"

But suddenly, he halted. Everyone stopped too; some glancing at each other, confused; some staring at Tala with surprised looks; and others, the more used to fighting, scanned the area with sharp eyes, looking for whatever the Wolf had spotted…

"What is it?" Friday whispered, moving closer to the Robert.

"Quiet… they're here…"

"Who?"

Something whizzed past her, rustling through her hair and lodging in the stonewall behind her. She gasped, and pressed right up against the German noble for protection, clenching her eyes shut.

"Them," Tala hissed, as a group of four or five black clad, ninja-looking beings dropped from the shadowy rafters of the ceiling. "Ian, take them to the underground bunker."

"What? And what will you do?" Ian retorted.

"Welcome our guests, of course…" The redhead sneered, cocking his gun and pulling out his beyblade. "Ian, just do it. Don't be afraid to shove explosives up someone's backside if they refuse - or even slow up."

"Eh, that makes up for the lack of action." The Snake turned to the others, ignoring the advancing ninjas. "Move it, you balls of flab."

"That deal didn't include insulting them like Boris did, buuut… I'll let it slip."

"Gee, thanks Tala…" Enrique muttered.

A sound made them freeze. It was a laughing sound, but… reptilian… a hissing laugh…

"What…?"

One of the black-clad beings stepped forward, lobbing what looked like a black rock towards them.

"Run!" Tala yelled, picking up Bryony.

The grenade exploded as it hit the ceiling, which made it crack and collapse. Everyone cried out as they were showered with heavy rocks, but continued to run nonetheless.

Then, the loud rumbling suddenly stopped and so did the indoor rockslide. They looked back at the blocked corridor, sighing in relief.

"That was close…" Enrique muttered.

"Hah, stupid bastard; now they can't get to us!" Friday crowed.

"No," Ian interrupted. "That corridor there-" He pointed to the hallway beside them. "Is another way round. They could come through there. So we have to- hey!"

"Rad!" Friday shrieked as her brother bolted down the corridor. She tried to go after him, but Robert held her back. "Let me go!"

"He's gone to get Bryony," The noble explained, holding onto the wrist of the blonde. "Come on; we have to get out of here. Tala gave us an order and we will follow it."

"No! I- put me down!"

Robert had grabbed the blonde and had thrown her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!"

The group ignored her and continued away from the rock fall. The only one to hesitate was Chelsea; but a comforting hand from Oliver made her go on.

* * *

"Faélan!"

A great fireball engulfed the corridor and the various hallways connected to it. The ninja-like creatures shrieked in pain, clutching their burning skin.

"Radolf, get out of here!" Tala ordered, a petrified Bryony clinging to his leg, Wolborg curled protectively around them.

The other redhead didn't pay any heed, instead calling out his own bit beast in another ardent explosion. Out of his blade emerged a creature surrounded by flames, but it was clear to see what type of being it was. It was also a wolf, fur made entirely of fire and head garbed with a golden helmet.

Wolborg raised his head, almost with interest, before he howled in greeting. Faélan, the fire wolf, howled back. Then, without any form of warning or order, both pounced on the shadowy life forms, jaws clamping down on bones and claws ripping flesh, elemental powers also scorching skin with ice and fire.

Blue met blue when the two teens met each other's gazes.

"Get out of here!" The elder shouted once again. "Take Bryony and get out of here!"

Radolf moved over to Tala. "Not without you, Tala. You'll be massacred."

"Then so be it," The Ice Wolf snapped. "But I won't let Bryan down by getting his sister hurt!"

Whilst they argued, they didn't notice a solitary figure stalking in the shadows until it was too late. It tackled the English teen, slamming and pinning him to the stonewall and grabbing a piece of his neck between razor sharp teeth.

The Fire Wolf cried out in absolute pain as the fangs pierced his flesh and fear as he felt something trickle down his shoulder and collarbone.

The being was thrown off the lad, however, when pain entered its own senses. It leapt away, clawed fingers clutching its bleeding head, where a bullet had passed through from back to forehead. It didn't fall dead, in spite of this. It simply hissed in anger.

Nearby, Radolf collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap.

And then, Tala's world went black.

* * *

Demi: Review! (By the by, this is a quick update cos i have revision to do -winces-) 


	19. Silence

_Chapter no. :_ 19  
_Chapter title: _Silence  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed: _**Phoenix Seal of Approval**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf**  
_Notes:_ Oh... well, mega thanks to Winterblazewolf and Johnny Mckilt for being the only **two** to review, because they _always_ review and therefore, _always_ show me love and tell me that this story is _worth it_. I'm not in a particularly good mood today, so all I can say is that I hope you enjoy and **review**.

P.S. To prove to you I really am in a bad mood, I don't give two fucks if you're annoyed this was updated late.

* * *

"Where is he?" She thumped on his chest, stubborn tears streaming down her cheeks. "Where is he?! I need to see him! Please!" 

Enrique wrapped his arms around her, holding her flailing limbs down and holding her close, resting his cheek on her mixed hair, eyes trailing around the secured vault and settling on the closed door that led to the second room. He took a deep breath, before sighing.

"Fri, calm down. They say he's fine…"

"But how-how can y-you know?" Pulling back, she stared the Italian straight in the eye, for once not caring that her cheeks were streaked with running mascara and eyeliner. "H-He had blood all over his n-neck and his t-shirt was soaked in it too and he was pale!" She was enveloped once again in the fellow blonde's arms and she began to cry at the memory of seeing her brother being carried into the shelter, along with an unconscious Tala. "So pale… so very, very pale…"

"I know, Fri… I know…"

Just then, there was a crash in the second room, the sound reverberating through to them. Everyone stood, staring at the door in shock.

"Don't you **fucking** tell me to calm down, Hiwatari!" It sounded like it was Bryan's roar. "My baby sister has been taken by God-knows-who and I'm standing here, not able to do a thing apart from help _him_! Keep your beak **shut** and deal with Tala or you'll fucking regret it!"

Then there was silence…

"Yeah right, Hiwatari…" Bryan's voice had quietened, but it still held iciness; Kai had obviously said something during the apparent 'silence'. "So what's this ingenious plan of yours, apart from hide in here like battery hens? Which is our fate: to die of starvation in here or to be ripped to shreds by whatever is out there?"

They couldn't hear anything else; either the two Russians had stopped arguing altogether or they had simply quietened…

But it dawned on the rest of them: something sinister was out there, bent on getting them, anyway, anyhow. It had been a stroke of pure luck that Bryan, Spencer and Kai had stumbled on the limp forms of Tala and Radolf, both bleeding profusely and knocking on death's door; the Fire Wolf, a tear in the neck and vein – the Ice Wolf, a long knife in his back, just mere millimetres from his spine…

Bryony, the innocent little Chick, was no where to be found – only her beloved white ribbon that was always tied in her metallic hair was a sign she had been there…

"Come on, Fri," Enrique whispered. "Let's go sit down, okay?"

She nodded, exhausted from both the events in the past few days and the two hour-long crying, and allowed the other blonde to guide her to the couch. She accepted the glass of water handed to her by Ian with shaking hands and took several sips, trying to calm herself.

Chelsea, the faithful twin, was curled up in the corner, arms around her bent legs and face buried in her knees; she hadn't left that position since she herself had seen her brother. Spencer was sat beside her, a hand on her back comfortingly, sometimes rubbing when he felt the shiver of a sob.

Johnny was sat with a sleeping Oliver, on the adjacent couch, holding the dead-to-the-world teen close, as if the Scot feared he would leave.

The rest were in the second room; Robert, Tala, Radolf and, of course, Kai and Bryan.

No one spoke from then on, not wanting to anger, or upset anyone like the Phoenix had obviously the Falcon.

The door to the other room opened slowly and Kai emerged. He closed to door behind him and moved over to Spencer and Ian, sitting beside them on the couch and holding his head in his hands.

He, too, accepted the glass of water from Ian and downed it in one.

"How are they?" Spencer spoke softly.

"They're both stable…" Kai's voice was slightly broken and rattled. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Thank God we have Bryan and thank God he has his medical training…"

"Can… Chelse and I see him?" Friday asked quietly.

The Russian shook his head sadly. "No… Bryan's still working and I think he's only got one branch of sanity left…"

* * *

Still, there was silence. 

Everyone had fallen asleep from exhaustion, in the first room of the underground vault; the only ones missing were Bryan, Tala and Radolf, who were all still in what had been dubbed the 'medical room'.

Chelsea opened her forest-green eyes slowly, looking over all the still forms of her sleeping friends. Quietly, she stood, teetering slightly from tiredness, and made her way over to the door. She knew Bryan was in there, and Kai had warned her of his fury, but she didn't care – she needed to see her twin and best friend.

Opening the door a squint, she slipped inside, shutting it as soon as she was inside the garage-looking room. The first thing she saw was that the floor was covered in blood-soaked bandages and cloths, bowls of reddened water placed here and there.

Raising her gaze, she took in the two still forms of Tala and Radolf. Both Wolves were extremely pale, their red hair contrasting heavily with their skin. The Russian had a bandage wrapped tightly around his middle, whereas the English boy had dressing layered around his neck and a bandage around his left eye, but both had a few pads in various places, over grazes and burns.

She rushed over to her brother and knelt beside him, brushing the brown-red strands away from his eyes. "Rad…" She whispered. "God, what _happened_ to you?" She placed a kiss on his forehead and murmured a sisterly, 'I love you' against his skin.

Kneeling straight, she searched the room for Bryan, finding him propped against the wall, next to a desk covered with needles and such, broken silver eyes watching her dully. Blood coated his hands and was smeared over his face – obviously where he had wiped sweat from his skin and ultimately marked his skin – and was also over his clothing.

Her own eyes softened and she stood, moving over to him. "Bryan…" She leant down and placed a kiss on his temple. "Thank you…"

He made no reply; but she didn't expect him too.

She moved over to the desk and took one of the bowls, tipping out the contents in the sink nearby and refilling it with clean water, also washing out a dirtied cloth, before going back over to the Falcon.

Sitting beside him, she placed the bowl and cloth next to her, wetting the rag and beginning to clean the blood from his forehead. She worked in silence and the elder simply stared into space, too shattered and exhausted to protest.

She took the Russian's hands in hers and submerged them in the water, gently rubbing them clean and noting a few cuts, obviously from the feverish working with the medical equipment. A thought popped into her mind: those wounds hadn't been there on the coarse, yet warm hands last night when they had…

Shaking her head to clear such thoughts, she looked at the Falcon, seeing all the emotions flickering in his eyes as he stared at Tala.

She dried her hands on her t-shirt and put the bowl and cloth to one side. Taking the silver head, she placed another kiss on his temple, pulling him against her and wrapping her arms around him.

"Bryan, go to sleep – you've done all you can do for them…" She whispered, burying her face in his silvery locks.

Slowly, but surely, his eyelids flickered and he fell into a shallow, restless sleep…


	20. Waking Moments

_Chapter no. :_ 20  
_Chapter title: _Waking Moments  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed: _**Phoenix Seal of Approval**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf  
shrouded-obssession**  
_Notes:_ Ah well... 3 reviews better than none... I guess... but if this story gets over a hundred reviews, I will be so happy... -is so not hinting-

* * *

"Bryan… Bryan…" He was shaken softly. "Bryan…!" 

His eyes slid open.

"Bryan, he's awake!"

That made him snap to.

"Who?" He asked, standing up and looking at Chelsea.

"Radolf."

He glanced over at the redhead's other half, seeing him roll his head around and hearing him groan in pain. His heart sunk – he had hoped Tala was awake, but…

Snatching up a clean needle and a bottle of some sort of liquid, he rushed over to Radolf, kneeling above his head and holding it still.

"I need you to keep your head still," He said, before looking up at the Wolf's sister. "Come and sit where I am and hold his head still; we can let the tear in his neck stretch or reopen."

She nodded and placed her hands over his. He slid his out the way and stood, allowing her to kneel above Radolf. The Falcon wasted no time in inserting the needle into the bottle of liquid, withdrawing a measured amount and sliding the spike into the other boy's forearm gently, pushing the fluid into the redhead's body.

Radolf calmed slowly and opened his eyes, glancing around blearily. He didn't speak, far too exhausted to do so, but he managed a small smile before blacking out.

"What-?"

"It was a sort of knock-out, pain-relief solution," Bryan explained, discarding the needle into a bucket. "He needs to save his strength – he lost a lot of blood." He stood and moved over to Tala, checking the younger's pulse and gently stroking the porcelain cheek. "It's strange… he shouldn't have woken up so soon – he lost over half his body's blood."

"He…" Chelsea stared down at her twin. "Shouldn't… blood transfusion…?"

"He does need one," Bryan agreed. "But not urgently. And he seems fine, considering… but I don't want to risk it."

"So what are we going to do?" She demanded. "If he needs blood, then we need to get to a hospital or something! Instead of hiding down here!"

"Don't you think I know that?" The Falcon snapped back, turning around and glaring at her with bird-like, hoary orbs. "If it were up to me, I'd be out of here and going after my baby sister, who _could_ be **dead**! If she dies, I can never live with myself, and I doubt Tala will either! He told me he would guard Bryony with his life and I can tell he did just that, but still she was taken. He'll blame himself, I'll blame myself, and that'll be three fatalities!"

There was a silent pause.

"If I prize Tala and my sister over your brother, then… it's who I am, Chelsea."

She nodded slowly. "I know… I just wish…"

"Things could be normal?"

"Yeah… it's our fault you guys are in this mess. If we had just told the Police that Winter was Oliver and that D'Arcy or whatever his pansy name is, was the cause of all this shit, then… Bryony wouldn't have been taken, Tala and Rad would be okay and your _home_ would be all perfect."

"The Abbey can never be perfect. Not with me and Ian stuck under one roof."

"Fine – and your home would not be filled with murderous, creepy ninjas."

He smiled slightly, but it faded when the door opened, admitting Robert. The German gave a small nod in greeting.

"How are they?"

Bryan sighed, looking at Tala. "Radolf woke up a few minutes ago, but I put him back to sleep because he was panicking - moving his neck and threatening to tear the wound open again. And plus, he needs his energy…"

"And Tala?"

"Still not woken up, but he's okay… I hope…"

"Bryan?"

The two males looked at Chelsea.

"Where's Faélan?"

"Chelsea…" The noble began. "When we found Tala and Radolf, it wasn't only Bryony that was missing… Faélan and Wolborg were both gone too."

The girl paled. "Faé's… gone? She can't… she's been passed down through our family for over a millennia…"

"I'm sorry," Robert apologised. "We'll get her back – along with Bryony and Wolborg and then things can settle."

Chelsea glanced at Bryan, who was staring at the floor dully, lost in his own world, and her eyes softened sadly.

"This," she began, in a mutter. "Is-"

* * *

"Insane. Just utterly insane!" 

Enrique rolled his eyes as Johnny continued to bleat and complain.

"We're stuck… _underground_… no food… no water… no way out, no _communication…_"

"For the umpteenth time, Jonathon," Robert sighed. "Will you just shut _the hell_ up?!"

Everyone in the room froze and stared. Not only did Robert just _raise his voice_ he practically _swore_.

Oliver cleared his throat in the silence and looked around the room. "Where's Chelsea?" he asked suddenly.

"I'm here," a voice called from the room where Radolf and Tala were. "I woke up hours ago – made Bryan get some sleep."

"Some being the operative word," Bryan continued as he followed her out. "What was all the bickering about now?"

"Johnny wouldn't shut up," Enrique sighed.

"Tell me something new at least."

"Screw you Kuznetsov. I'd would have thought you would know where we are, seeing as you live in this shitpit."

The wall cracked and concrete split to the floor. "Shut up McGregor," Bryan spat out through gritted teeth, his fist firmly in the wall beside him. "Don't say another word if you value your life. I know where we are. I've been shut down here many times before. Unfortunately never with two patients verging on critical. Unless you want to be the next fatality in this hellhole then I suggest you button it."

"Next… fatality?" Friday asked quietly. "Who… Bryan… is Radolf…?"

"Radolf's fine. Tala's fine. They're fine. But where you sit now was where many were shut in before."

Oliver and Enrique looked at each other quickly and then to Spencer and Ian who were sat in on the other side of the room looking pained.

"People… you knew?" Friday asked.

"And buried," Spencer said solemnly.

Bryan nodded amidst the shocked gasps and Ian swallowed and looked away.

"So there's definitely no communication system if we're shut in an old isolation unit!" Johnny said with a somewhat hysterical undertone.

"Wait…" Bryan frowned, removing his fist from the wall. "Say that again,"

"Huh?"

"Listen numbskull I just gave you permission to speak… _say that again_."

"There's definitely no communication system if we're-"

"That's not true," Bryan interrupted, his eyes brightening.

"The secret room!" Kai said, sitting up.

"But we don't have the key!" Ian called after Bryan as he turned on his heel and strode over to the door that led through to the Medical room, but stopping just beside it.

"Keys? Who needs keys?" Bryan answered with a sinister smirk.

There was silence as he felt along the wall, eyes narrowed in concentration, before he swiftly kicked the plaster. There was a **bang** as a hidden door was kicked open and the Falcon vanished into the mysterious room. Chelsea quickly followed, standing behind the Russian sat at the computer.

"Come on, come on," Bryan muttered. "Someone keep an eye on Tala and Radolf!" he called suddenly.

"Robert's got it covered," Kai said, pushing his way through the small crowd to where Bryan was getting increasingly agitated.

"Damn it…"

"Give me the keyboard," the Phoenix told him, "and go and check on your patients."

"You know who to contact?"

"I certainly do. Now _go_. And get some more sleep."

"I'll make sure he does that," Chelsea said, following the Falcon out.

"Thank you. McGregor, shut up."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were going to."

Oliver covered his grin with his hand – indeed the Scotsman had about to say something scathing when he was chastised.

"And, ladies and gentlemen," Kai announced over a familiar computerised buzz, just as Robert entered the room, "we have internet access. Now to-"

But he was cut off by a scream from the next room.


	21. What in the name of?

_Chapter no. :_ 21  
_Chapter title: _What in the name of...?  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed: _**Phoenix Seal of Approval**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf  
shrouded-obssession**  
_Notes:_ Hai, to my loyal reviewers! A cookie to you three and my undying love! ...okay, that was a tad too far, but ya'll know what i mean : ) And by the by, I got an email from a worried reader (GOD knows how they got my email address...) who was concerned about this story becoming OC dominated and was straying too far from Oliver. To point out, this story, though is about Oliver, is not Oli-centered, so therefore, he is not always going to be in the story's metaphorical eye. And as for OCs - it will get to a point where it will feel too OC-ish, but don't worry... their time will come... and go...

* * *

"And, ladies and gentlemen," Kai announced over a familiar computerised buzz, just as Robert entered the room, "we have internet access. Now to-" 

But he was cut off by a scream from the next room. Everyone looked at each other, before Kai jumped to his feet and pushed past them, racing to the other room.

"Tala!" He yelled, eyes wide as the scene in front of him.

The Wolf had pinned Bryan against the wall, a sinister grin tugging at his lips, showing very sharp fangs that glinted threateningly in the low light. Upon hearing his name, the redhead glanced at the Phoenix, giving the Falcon the opportunity to react.

He raised a fist and, using all his force, smacked it into Tala's jaw, sending him backwards, dazed. Not taking a chance, the silver one lunged forward, grabbing the lithe waist of the other and taking him to the floor. They slid across the room and hit a shelving unit. With the force and speed of Bryan's attack, the stand came loose from the wall and came crashing to the ground.

Tala rolled them out the way, however, before it fell on top of them, and ended up straddling the elder's waist, a feral – no, _wild_ grin on his lips. Raising his hand – his _clawed_ hand – he slashed the Falcon's cheek, leaving four red, oozing lines.

"Oh dear, Bryan…" He murmured in a low growl. "You appear to be bleeding… let me clean that up for you…"

He leant down, hands pinning the other's shoulders to the floor. When he was literally a centimetre away from the bleeding indents, he licked his lips, like a wolf about to devour his prey after not eating for a month. Bryan, thinking fast, grabbed the nearest object within reach and smacked it into the redhead's arm. It ironically happened to be a needle full of the tranquiliser drug and the point plunged through the pale skin, the liquid emptying into the Wolf's body.

The younger howled in pain and, using his other hand this time, slashed the other cheek, before collapsing to the side, out cold.

Finally out of shock, Chelsea and Kai darted forward, the latter going to Tala and the first to Bryan.

Upon reaching the Falcon, she was horrified to see the damage the other Russian had done. On his left cheek were the four, bleeding claw marks, but the other attack had gone across his left eye and blood was pouring out profusely; she immediately feared the worst.

"Bryan?" She asked quickly. "Bryan, look at me!"

'_Oh, great thing to say to him, genius!_' Her inner voice snapped. '_Great thing to say when his __**eye **__is producing more blood than your first period!_'

"So now you react," The silver haired male muttered, opening his left eye, the other still scrunched shut from the pain. He brought up a hand and covered it, trying to alleviate the hurt. "Where's Tala?"

"He's back in his bed," Chelsea replied, glancing at Kai who was treating the bleeding needle mark. Turning back to the elder, she gripped his wrist. "Let me look."

"No, I can do it myself."

"Let me look."

"No. Get off me."

"_Let me look!_"

"No!"

She let out a frustrated cry, before straddling his waist and tugging his hand away viciously.

"Someone get me some swabs!" She yelled. "Shit," She added in a mutter. "I've been watching too much Casualty…"

Robert rushed over with some pads, a bowl of water and a bandage, handing them to the English girl.

"Do you know what you're doing?" The noble asked.

"No fucking clue."

"I thought as much." The German paused, watching her gently wash away the blood. "What happened?"

"It's a blur, but as soon as you left, Tala just leapt to life and tried to grab me – he tried to bite me, actually! But Bry got him away. _But_ then Tala pinned him against the wall, the then you guys walked it," Chelsea replied.

"Shit, wench!" The Falcon cursed, as pain shot through his nerves. "Be careful. I may not be made of china, but fuck! I'm not made of armoured hide!"

"How is his eye?" Robert asked.

"Bry, can you open it?"

He glared with his other eye, before flickering his injured eyelid open, grimacing with clenched teeth through it all. He hissed and blinked furiously when blood dripped into his eye; Chelsea dabbed the stream of red liquid away before it caused more trouble.

"No," he hissed, giving up. "Now would you get off me?"

"No."

The Falcon sighed in frustration. "Robert, get the others out of here and get Kai on that blasted computer. Then make sure Radolf is okay and not likely to wake up."

The German nodded and stood, doing as told. Soon, the two were on their own; albeit an unconscious Tala.

"I have to say," the Russian began, sitting up and scooting back slightly to rest his back against the wall. "I never thought you'd scream so shrilly."

"Well," Chelsea replied, moving closer, and resuming her cleaning of the four lines across his eye that were not only bleeding, but starting to bruise on the edges. "I never thought I'd be faced with a psychotic Tala. Saw it on TV during his match with Tyson Granger, and that was fucking petrifying. Think how I felt with him there in real life threatening to bite my arm off!"

"Hm… you never had a problem with _me_ biting you…"

Her hand unconsciously went to the bite marks hidden by her hair. "Well… that was different. That was in the throes of passion – this was an unprecedented and unprovoked attack with _fangs_."

"Point taken," He replied with a smirk.

"Bry, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"_Apart from that, bastard_."

"Fine."

"What was…" She paused. Being down in an underground fault and thrown off her knowledge of time… was the incident 'last night' or 'the night before last'? "Um… what was that night to you?"

"The one we spent in my bed, the night before last?"

She nodded, trying to seem indifferent, by continuing with his eye.

"…" He hesitated, thoughts mulling over in his head. "I'm not sure."

"Well, was it a one night stand or…"

"Or…?"

She shrugged. "I dunno… something to… you know, to build on?"

"Well… what was it to you?"

"Nah-ah, I asked you first."

He frowned, but stopped when it caused him discomfort from his injury.

"What do you want out of it?"

"No, Bryan, you answer it."

"Stop pressuring me," He snapped. "I've never really felt emotions before."

"Do you want to do it again? Casting aside the fact that I was mind-blowingly awesome in bed."

He remained passive.

"Like…" She broke off, unsure, before sighing in frustration. "You know what, fuck it – Kuznetsov, you're a bastard, but I think I love you."

* * *

Demi: This mysterious emailer also pointed out that I'd said beforehand that this story wouldn't have major pairings and i still carry that on. BryanxChelsea just happened by chance; I didn't plan it - I went with the flow. And plus, this will not be a MAJOR pairing. Just in the background, y'know? 

And anyway - review my lovelies! Or I'll run to your house, scream in your ear, eat all your cookies and clog your toilet with your mum.


	22. My Girlfriend Who Lives In Canada

_Chapter no. :_ 22  
_Chapter title: _My Girlfriend Who Lives In Canada  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed: _**Phoenix Seal of Approval**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf  
shrouded-obssession**  
_Notes: _Hm, same three again? Ah well, you three are my motivation for this story, I guess... however, I must strain this: readers of any of my stories, do not (I repeat, **do not**) badger me for an update. Yes, I know, I failed to update _Birds of a Feather_ last week and will most likely fail again this week, but guys, I have **major, major, major** exams this week; major being because these marks will stick on my CV/resume/whatever for the rest of my Goddamn life; I need to concentrate. So I'm sorry if I miss one update - **I'm trying people! I really am!**

Enjoy.

* * *

"I'm sorry…" 

Everyone glanced at him, from their positions on various couches or on the floor.

"For what, Oli?" Enrique asked.

The French teen shook his head. "For bringing you all into this…"

"Oliver, it isn't your fault," Kai replied, crossing his arms. "No one's but D'Arcy's. You weren't to know what was in store or how dangerous he was."

"I guess…" He sighed. "But from now on, I'm not standing back whilst others get hurt. D'Arcy crossed the line when he killed my father, but now he's marrying my mother…" He looked the Phoenix in the eye. "Have you managed to get hold of whoever you were trying to get hold of?"

"No… left a message…" the Russian answered with a sigh of his own. "But there's a time difference, so…"

"Oh… so they're not Russian?"

"No."

"Please tell me our helper is not from Japan…" Johnny groaned.

Kai burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. The thought was ludicrous to him. It even amused Spencer and Ian and they allowed snickers to break loose.

"Ah, sorry…" The blunette chuckled, calming down. "But Tyson? I would like to walk away from this rather than be carried out in a body bag, thank you." He glanced at the Scot. "And, Johnny? I do have more than my team and Tyson as friends. This is more than I can say for you."

Just as the redhead was about to reply, there was a hesitant knock to the metal vault door. Everyone froze, silent. Another knock came, and it reverberated through their ears, threateningly and tauntingly.

"Kai, open the door," came a voice, and the three Russians in the room calmed. "Come on, Phoenix. You ring me, and then you don't even open the door. Talk about gratitude…"

"Oh, quiet, you!" Kai told the voice, with a roll of his eyes. He stood and moved over to the circular door. "I wasn't expecting you. You could have returned my call."

He jerked the circular vault door open, to reveal a teen of his age, long, spiky blonde hair and humoured blue eyes, lean body garbed in jeans, white shirt and a military coat.

"What are you doing here?" The Russian asked, tiredly.

"Saving your arses?" The blond suggested. "Where are the Wolves?"

"In the other room."

The other boy looked behind him and gestured to the vault. Four figures, in green camouflage clothing and carrying stretchers, hurried past and into the medical room. They heard a small girlish, "ah!" and a deep chuckle (followed by a, "bastard…"), before the figures rushed back out, Radolf and Tala lying on the stretchers.

"Come on, we better go. The quicker we are, the lesser the risk."

"Hold on, we don't even know who you are!" Enrique yelled.

"Know who he is?" Both Chelsea (who had just appeared) and Friday chorused. "He's Sparks!"

"…Who?"

"Eh, let's just go…"

The two girls giggled (the redhead uncharacteristically) and hurried after the blond, whom the girls had called, 'Sparks'.

Kai glanced at Johnny. "Actually, I'm also surprised you haven't heard of Sparks."

"Am I really supposed to?" The Scot retorted, almost sarcastically.

"Yes."

"Oh…"

* * *

"_Ohhhhh, I… wish you could meet my girlfriend! My girlfriend who lives in Canada! She couldn't be sweeter, I wish you could meet her – my girlfriend who lives in Canadaaaa! Her name is Alberta, she lives in Vancouver, she cooks like my mother and sucks like a Hoover!_" 

"Will you please quieten down?"

The two girls giggled.

"Oh come on, it's an excellent song!" Johnny snorted, earning a 'don't-tempt-them' look from Robert. "It fits too."

"If you're referring to me, then it doesn't. She's not my girlfriend, her name isn't Alberta and she lives in Ottawa," the blond, Sparks, said warily.

"So she cooks like your mother and sucks like a Hoover?"

"Shut up, McGregor," Kai snapped rubbing his temples.

Oliver sighed. They were on what seemed to be a military helicopter, flying over the Siberian tundra to what they had recently found out as Canada. Why? No reason yet – just go with the flow.

"I know," Bryan replied to the French boy's unspoken statement, making the green haired one look at him; the younger mentally sighed in slight guilt at how the Falcon's left eye was heavily bandaged. "Hopefully, either they shut up or we land soon."

"_I wish you could meet my girlfriend… but you can't because she lives in Canada!_"

"Neither will happen soon, though," Oliver said with a sigh.

"_-so soon I'll be off to Alberta! …I mean Vancouver! Shit, her name is Alberta, she lives in Vancouv- She's my girlfriend!_"

Bryan took in a deep breath and the electrically-named lad laughed, patting him on the shoulder.

"Think of it this way, Falcon – at least they're not singing about you."

"_And I can't wait to eat her pussy again!_"

Everyone went silent.

"That's it, I'm confiscating your iPod," Kai muttered, snatching the pink mp3 off the floor and unplugging the headphones.

"Hey, we know Avenue Q off by heart," Friday chuckled.

"Don't you even dare…"

The two girls giggled, albeit a little nervously, at the glares they were getting from two of the most fearsome Russians in the world. They glanced at each other before sighing dramatically, the blonde returning to her make-up and the redhead looking out the window.

"Fine…" they conceded.

Oliver shook his head sadly and looked out the window to the twin helicopter in the sky nearby. His thoughts wandered to the two in that we suffering most in this. Tala and Radolf - they had done nothing but help him and what had happened to them? They had almost been killed…

So many lives were at risk…

'_All my fault…'_

"Hey!" Fingers clicked in front of his face and he flinched, blinking, before looking to Enrique.

"S-Sorry, 'Rique…" The French lad apologised. "I got lost in thought."

"How could _you_ get lost in thought?" His question was highly humorous, but his baby blues were filled with guilt over breaking him from his chain of thought.

'_My fault I hurt Enrique with my death…_' 

"Yeah, but you on the other hand…" Johnny muttered, spotting a slight smirk on the Falcon's lips.

"Johnny-boy, down!" Chelsea snapped.

'_My fault that Johnny has to deal with my cousin…_' 

"Oh, you- woman! Shut up!"

The smirk on Bryan's lips vanished and a dangerous, warning glint entered his silvery orbs.

"Want to try that again, McGregor?" The elder asked, though it was more of a challenge. "Because I _could_ throw you out of this chopper if I had the urge… and right now, I do have the urge to do so, so if I were you, I'd shut your trap about _my_ woman."

'… _So it isn't my fault if Johnny gets thrown out, but still…'_

Oliver, despite being in his thoughts, didn't fail to notice the faint blush that adorned the pale cheeks of his cousin and the uncertain glint in her eyes that sparkled even more when Bryan met her gaze with his only-seen eye. His expression was unreadable, as always, and she forced herself to look away, out the window instead.

The Unicorn sighed for what seemed like the millionth time in the day and, too, looked out into the sky, a single question in his head:

'_Should I…?'

* * *

Demi: Should he what? Should he **what**? Waaa, I know the answer, but you don't! Ku ku ku... _

Demi: Should he what? Should he ? Waaa, I know the answer, but you don't! Ku ku ku... Demi: Should he what? Should he ? Waaa, I know the answer, but you don't! Ku ku ku... Demi: Should he what? Should he ? Waaa, I know the answer, but you don't! Ku ku ku... 

Review and I'll write my arse off... not literally, I love my arse - my best feature. But hell, I'll write quick if you review!

P.S. - Aha! I love Avenue Q! It rocks... "My Girlfriend Who Lives In Canada", "The Internet Is For Porn", "Everyone's A Little Bit Racist" and "Schadenfreude" are my favourite songs - and "My Girlfriend..." just fitted and I needed a filler; so sue me! Well, don't cos I have no money, but ya can try!


	23. Realisation

_Chapter no. :_ 23  
_Chapter title: _Realisation  
_Story rating:_ T  
_BETAed: _**Unbetaed (Mistakes Imminent)**  
_Disclaimer:_ Me no own Beyblade. I mean, come on - how stupid are you? If I did own Beyblade, it would contain much swearing, blood, sex and rock'n'roll. And Yaoi. Don't forget the luffly yaoi. But since I don't own it, I have to settle for entertaining you guys with my stories and OCs - which is fine by me.  
_Warnings: _swearing... me being annoyingly-cliff-hanger-y... um... nothing really... this is a rather clean story... -hums-  
_Big thanks for reviewing...  
_**The Johnny McKilt Productions  
Winterblazewolf  
shrouded-obssession  
Meghan **(new reviewer! Cookie to yew!)  
_Notes: _So, the exams are over, but still my drive is near non-existant... gay... ugh, like I said before, I really am trying to keep churning out the chapters, but it is hard, so much support is needed. But, hopefully, I'll get drive when I'm on holiday in Devon -nods slowly- so, you definitely won't get an update for a week or so, okies?

* * *

"To think…" 

"Oh no, don't do that! 'Screws up your brain!"

Usually, such a remark would make a certain Lizard explode in fury over such an insult to his intelligence. Usually, the Dragon who had made the comment would be six feet under before once could say, 'Oh poop'. Usually, the Griffin would be the one to quieten the furious reptile by dragging him out the door to the nearest chessboard. Usually, the Unicorn would be forced to dig up the poor serpent's body and then cook a nice chocolate cake to cheer him up and calm the rest of this strange family.

And, usually, this would happen everyday.

As usual, Johnny turned away from the window he had been staring out of to look at Enrique. The blond, who was sat in one of the many armchairs in the room, expecting a barrage of verbal abuse and name-calling, winced; the violet-haired noble rolled his eyes and the green-locked teen chuckled behind his hand.

Unusually, however, the Scottish boy just regarded the Italian with a steady, cool gaze before turning back to look at the mountains outside. The other three glanced at each other.

"To think what, Johnny?" Robert asked, taking a small sip of the brandy in his glass.

"That…" The McGregor sighed heavily and let his head fall against the windowpane.

"Mon ami, talk to us," Oliver whispered, standing and moving over to the strangely-acting Scot.

"It's just…" Johnny sighed again in frustration and whirled around. "It's just you're supposed to be dead-" He pointed right at the Unicorn. "We're in Canada for a reason I don't have a fucking clue about; we're surrounded by people either I didn't know existed until a little over a week ago or I thought were our enemies and there's a crazed maniac out there sending retards at us with the intent of murder! And yet, everyone's acting like this is a game with an escape button that we can press if things go wrong! You're all too normal and this situation isn't. I'm sick of it."

Silence filled the room.

Without another word, the redhead stalked out, slamming the door loudly behind him with a resounding bang.

"Leave him," the German noble murmured to the other two. "He just needs some time alone. Let him deal with his rage on his own."

"But…"

"No, Enrique." Ruby and sapphire met in a locked gaze, before the former looked down to his glass of swirling brown alcohol. He, too, sighed. "You would have thought, from experience, that Johnny would have blown up about anything and everything that got on his nerves or frustrated him, yes?"

"Yeah. That's generally what happens with Johnny-boy."

Oliver, too, nodded in agreement, perching on the window ledge.

"But, for once, he has taken others' courtesy into first account," Robert went on, surprising the others. "Didn't you notice that, upon hearing of Oliver's survival of the fire, that he remained calm and collected? And after we were attacked, he acted rationally, following orders and not questioning a single one? Although he clashed with Bryan down in that vault, he could have been worse."

"What are you getting at, Robert?" The blond asked.

"That all that anger and frustration from recent events - even dating back a year ago - have built up inside of him-"

"And he's finally letting it out," Oliver finished.

"Indeed," the noble replied, before taking another sip of the brandy. "In an environment where there is no immediate danger, he's finally letting out that rage and grief from your apparent death and revival, Oliver, and then hiding his fear and panic behind it. All those emotions are slowly spilling out." He paused to refill his glass. "Just let him vent."

"Okay… I only thought Johnny-boy was capable of one of those four emotions…"

Robert smiled at the comment, eyes still fixed unfocused on his drink. "We learn new things everyday."

"And so we do," the French teen added, looking behind him, out the window. "Who knew that Johnny smoked?"

The other two's gazes shot towards him and the Unicorn gestured out the window. They stood and moved over to look outside. Sure enough, as Oliver had hinted, on the steps of the large, Canadian manor house, was a certain Scottish teen, a certain white stick gripped in his fingers and a certain Falcon smoking beside him.

"Well, I'll be damned…" Enrique muttered.

Robert frowned. "No, he'll be damned - to aged lungs and an early death."

"What, at your hands?"

"If he's lucky."

* * *

"I didn't know you smoked." 

The Lizard glanced at the Falcon, inhaling deeply on the cigarette, before shrugging.

"I started after Oliver… 'died'. Made me relax. Haven't had one o' these since I met up with Robert and Enrique in London after I saw Oliver in the street."

"Didn't want them to know?"

"Yeah." Johnny chuckled. "Robert would lecture me on the health risks and stuff."

"Tala did that with me too. But he's a fucking hypocrite and a half. Spence just gave me one of his stern looks, but said nothing on the matter…" Bryan looked down at his cigarette solemnly. "I cut down a bit when I found Bryony. Didn't want to hurt her…"

"We'll get her back, Kuz'," Johnny murmured. "And then we can retire happily."

"I think I can agree wi- what the fuck did you just call me?"

The Lizard shrugged.

The Falcon shrugged.

The two looked out onto the large, open grounds.

"Holy… fuck…"

Blinking in sudden surprise, the two bladers turned to the large, elite doors to see a stunned Ian, his ruby orbs wide in shock.

"You two are… getting along?"

Johnny and Bryan looked at each other before shrugging nonchalantly. Upon turning back to the Snake, they saw his was gone; but when they heard a shout from inside, they knew where the younger had gone.

"Spen-ceeeerrrrr!" Came the low whine. "The end of the world is herrrrrre! The two bastards are being buddieeeeees!"

"So," Bryan started, stubbing out his now-small cigarette. "Why the sudden restart?"

"Ugh, just… everything. When I see D'Arcy or whoever's behind all this, I'm cutting his balls off and making him die a slow and very painful death." The Scot did the same and flicked the butt over next to the Falcon's. "I mean, everything was fine before that fire. Yeah, my team didn't get on like macaroni and cheese, and our meetings didn't go _that_ smoothly or well, in fact, but… things were okay - they were normal.

"Even though I challenged Sir-Stick-Up-The-Arse to chess or a battle everytime I saw him, didn't mean I didn't respect him; I just wanted his company. And even though I generally treated the Master of Idiocy like shit, to me, he was the kind that made my favourite boots look less 'let's please father', which is something I _do not_ like to do. And about Girly-Pants… yeah, I said I hated his food, but that just made him cook better and more dishes… I don't think they understand that. They probably think I'm made up of rage and nothing else, and that I don't regard them as… friends… meaning, I'm not allowed to do this sort of thing - you know, explode in a flurry of emotions; fear included…"

Johnny's eyes widened.

"Shit, I just said that all out loud, didn't I?"

"Indeed you did."

The redhead dropped his head into his hands. "Great, great, great… spilled my thoughts to the Homicidal Maniac… just great."

"I resent the 'homicidal maniac' comment, but don't get all girly on me here… if you don't think they understand you, why not tell them?"

"Oh, yeah, great idea, Einstein. 'Hey guys, wanna be my fwends? I wuv yuuuu!'." Johnny glared at the silver-haired male.

"Che, fine, don't listen to me then," the Russian muttered. "And I didn't mean like that, anyway." He lit up another cigarette. "But I guess it's one of your characteristics. My team know that I respect them and that, deep down, I do regard them as my true friends and not just as comrades, yet I still treat Ian like a midget who's escaped from the circus and tease Tala about taking on a maternal side with us."

"A maternal side?"

Bryan shrugged. "As close as a straight guy can be to being maternal; fussy, bitchy, meticulous… and in turn, we know that that's his way of showing he cares. And Kai; che, would the guy share his money with us if he didn't have some form of affection towards us?"

"What about Spencer?"

"I treat him like I treated him in the Abbey - like an elder brother. As a kid, he used to protect me until I was strong enough to fight; but still he was always in the shadows. We have a sort of sibling connection; something I don't even have with Bryony." He glanced at the redhead. "Didn't you have someone like that?"

Johnny paused. "I did…"

"Who?"

"…No one…"

"Ah…" Bryan murmured. "I guess something happened to them."

"Yeah; I did. Or rather, my father's expectations happened. He made me regard him as a rival rather than a friend or brother. I don't know what happened to him."

"Let me guess - until now, you didn't care."

"I hate you… why are you always right?"

"Someone has to be."

They fell into silence, their thoughts to themselves for once in the conversation. It seemed that in certain circumstances, Fate could bring opposites together in understanding. Yet, the two, in a sense weren't opposites - they were as bad as each other - but were still in underst-

"Shit…"

"What?"

"I've just realised something."

"Do you tend to realise things around me?"

"I think I do." Bryan stood, inhaling a final drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out and flicking it away. He suddenly raced for the doors and disappeared from the redhead's view until Johnny had the notion to follow.

"Kuznetsov!" The Scot yelled down the corridor. "'The fuck?"

* * *

Demi: Seriously - review and you may get an update before I go on holiday. This isn't a threat or me holding work at ransom, reviews give me boost to write. If not, hope you have a good week and see you when I get back. 


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